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 Tunisia and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grime 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Pretty Things,
John Coltrane,
Man Parrish,
AZ,
Fluxion,
Piero Umiliani,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
Slick Rick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
The Smoke,
The Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fortunes,
Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
Moby Grape,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Anakelly,
Leonard Cohen,
Sixth Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
The Sound,
Barrington Levy,
Kurtis Blow,
kango's stein massive,
CMW,
Bobby Womack,
Black Sheep,
Deakin,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Techniques,
Tim Buckley,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Flag,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Popol Vuh,
The Associates,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Section 25,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Rod Modell,
Country Teasers,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Minor Threat,
Dawn Penn,
Youth Brigade,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.