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 Namibia and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Neil Young to the grime 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Aaron Thompson,
Nirvana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monolake,
Kenny Larkin,
Bad Manners,
The Smoke,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
Television Personalities,
The Dead C,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Mars,
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Judy Mowatt,
the Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Agent Orange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Model 500,
Gong,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radiohead,
Eric Dolphy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Velvet Underground,
Mark Hollis,
The Stooges,
Animal Collective,
Sugar Minott,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Bill Near,
The Residents,
Sun City Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
Slave,
Ronan,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.