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 Slovenia and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Grass Roots,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thompson Twins,
The Kinks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Juan Atkins,
Aswad,
Suburban Knight,
Soft Machine,
Tommy Roe,
Parry Music,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Move,
Derrick Morgan,
Skriet,
Au Pairs,
Sister Nancy,
Fela Kuti,
Ralphi Rosario,
Godley & Creme,
The Divine Comedy,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Fraelich,
Iggy Pop,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deakin,
Dawn Penn,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Wells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Misunderstood,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Von Mondo,
The Gories,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Panda Bear,
Thee Headcoats,
Alton Ellis,
ABC,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
Boz Scaggs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.