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 Korea North and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth 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?
The J.B.'s,
Hashim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang of Four,
Idris Muhammad,
Chrome,
Althea and Donna,
Scientists,
Unwound,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
Q65,
Desert Stars,
Camberwell Now,
The Martian,
Q and Not U,
Scrapy,
Public Enemy,
The Stooges,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soul Sonic Force,
U.S. Maple,
The Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Iggy Pop,
Absolute Body Control,
David Axelrod,
Spoonie Gee,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Prince Buster,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Malaria!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
T. Rex,
Smog,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The United States of America,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fuzztones,
The Mojo Men,
The Beau Brummels,
The Smiths,
Gang Green,
Echospace,
Visage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Second Layer,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.