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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 Theoretical Girls to the funk 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Massinfluence,
Intrusion,
The Victims,
Robert Görl,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül II,
Sight & Sound,
Ohio Players,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faust,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
the Germs,
10cc,
Colin Newman,
The Dead C,
Neil Young,
Sixth Finger,
Television Personalities,
Das Ding,
The Moody Blues,
CMW,
Michelle Simonal,
The Index,
Average White Band,
The Happenings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Busters,
U.S. Maple,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Josef K,
The Music Machine,
Animal Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
Aural Exciters,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
DNA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
Porter Ricks,
T.S.O.L.,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quando Quango,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.