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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Roxette to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Al Stewart,
Flash Fearless,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Bobby Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sex Pistols,
Eve St. Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Blancmange,
Lower 48,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tim Buckley,
Easy Going,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skaos,
Kerri Chandler,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
Soft Machine,
The Fortunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
L. Decosne,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
Con Funk Shun,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fugazi,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
a-ha,
The Birthday Party,
Livin' Joy,
Andrew Hill,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Anakelly,
Wings,
Eurythmics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
Sister Nancy,
Animal Collective,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camberwell Now,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.