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 Antigua and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Saccharine Trust to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Flipper,
the Soft Cell,
Camberwell Now,
R.M.O.,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Man Parrish,
10cc,
H. Thieme,
The Motions,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mummies,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ken Boothe,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marcia Griffiths,
The United States of America,
Matthew Bourne,
Oblivians,
Anakelly,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Niagra,
The Wake,
Zero Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arthur Verocai,
Television Personalities,
Excepter,
Roxette,
Rotary Connection,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
The Mojo Men,
Shuggie Otis,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Camouflage,
Dark Day,
Morten Harket,
Roxy Music,
Donald Byrd,
Ohio Players,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.