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 Moldova and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Fire Engines to the electroclash 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Qualms,
Colin Newman,
Severed Heads,
The Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Marmalade,
Schoolly D,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-102,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fortunes,
Crooked Eye,
Ohio Players,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
Moss Icon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Scan 7,
UT,
Can,
Technova,
MDC,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Trojans,
Joey Negro,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
Magazine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
The Residents,
Darondo,
the Normal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Beau Brummels,
Harry Pussy,
Black Moon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vainqueur,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
Fela Kuti,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.