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 Oman and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Subhumans to the dance 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
Lou Christie,
The Happenings,
Aswad,
Yaz,
LL Cool J,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Busters,
Bronski Beat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jandek,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Monks,
Quantec,
The Selecter,
Carl Craig,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
The Mojo Men,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
EPMD,
The Gladiators,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Prince Buster,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
Ronnie Foster,
The Index,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Suicide,
Arcadia,
Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
Aloha Tigers,
Accadde A,
Albert Ayler,
X-Ray Spex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Clarke,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.