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 Morocco and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
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 808 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 Mo-Dettes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Rod Modell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Guru Guru,
Nico,
The Misunderstood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
Wire,
The Dead C,
Vladislav Delay,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
This Heat,
Marine Girls,
Roxette,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
The Black Dice,
Robert Hood,
Brothers Johnson,
Slave,
Cecil Taylor,
Aloha Tigers,
Banda Bassotti,
Ohio Players,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magma,
Loose Ends,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rotary Connection,
Desert Stars,
Severed Heads,
The Real Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Josef K,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Accadde A,
Joe Smooth,
The Index,
Cluster,
Malaria!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nils Olav,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Michelle Simonal,
Nas,
Chris Corsano,
Thompson Twins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
Joy Division,
The Velvet Underground,
The Standells,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.