Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jeff Lynne to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Sam Rivers,
the Slits,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moleskins,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Rotary Connection,
Arthur Verocai,
Maurizio,
Steve Hackett,
Fear,
The Star Department,
Panda Bear,
The Five Americans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed,
Erasure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hashim,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
The Fortunes,
Glenn Branca,
Technova,
The New Christs,
Model 500,
Ronan,
The Vogues,
Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hardrive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacob Miller,
Ituana,
Y Pants,
Crime,
the Fania All-Stars,
Junior Murvin,
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moby Grape,
Trumans Water,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Johnny Osbourne,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.