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 Spain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
Urselle,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amazonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tubeway Army,
David McCallum,
Joe Finger,
Hardrive,
Robert Hood,
Darondo,
The Blackbyrds,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Essential Logic,
Terry Callier,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Derrick Morgan,
Interpol,
Grey Daturas,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fall,
Gong,
The Smiths,
Scratch Acid,
Prince Buster,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amon Düül,
Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Lyres,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Green,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxy Music,
James Chance & The Contortions,
B.T. Express,
The New Christs,
R.M.O.,
The Wake,
Motorama,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
The Human League,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.