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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Howard Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Freddie Wadling,
Amon Düül,
Bluetip,
Jawbox,
Peter & Gordon,
The Skatalites,
China Crisis,
The Buckinghams,
Interpol,
Organ,
Wings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
UT,
The Neon Judgement,
The Trojans,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Charles Mingus,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Adolescents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Procol Harum,
Television Personalities,
Panda Bear,
The Martian,
June of 44,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
These Immortal Souls,
Spoonie Gee,
Parry Music,
The New Christs,
Metal Thangz,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
B.T. Express,
Average White Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Moon,
Duran Duran,
Scrapy,
Jandek,
Yellowson,
Anakelly,
The Zeros,
Althea and Donna,
The Toasters,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
Terry Callier,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.