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 Botswana and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pantaleimon to the electroclash 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monolake,
Sparks,
The Black Dice,
The Pretty Things,
Smog,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Jimmy McGriff,
Intrusion,
Al Stewart,
Fad Gadget,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Iggy Pop,
T.S.O.L.,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight,
Essential Logic,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
World's Most,
Joey Negro,
Deakin,
Bang On A Can,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
Jawbox,
The Trojans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Spandau Ballet,
Guru Guru,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
Eddi Front,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
Funkadelic,
The Skatalites,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Residents,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Eric B and Rakim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Görl,
Rapeman,
The Toasters,
The Barracudas,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.