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 Iraq and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Joyce Sims to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Mandrill,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Animal Collective,
Sandy B,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
Radio Birdman,
The Skatalites,
Scrapy,
Lalann,
Q65,
The American Breed,
LL Cool J,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Pretty Things,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultravox,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
The Grass Roots,
Gong,
DJ Style,
Delta 5,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Au Pairs,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks,
Procol Harum,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joe Finger,
Black Moon,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Sherman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fear,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pagans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Music Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
UT,
Matthew Halsall,
Mars,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hoover,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.