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 Seychelles and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
CMW,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
D'Angelo,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
Magazine,
E-Dancer,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
Minny Pops,
X-102,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Seeds,
Ludus,
Pussy Galore,
X-101,
Hot Snakes,
The Blackbyrds,
Technova,
Tres Demented,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
10cc,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispian St. Peters,
Panda Bear,
Das Ding,
Infiniti,
Inner City,
Japan,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Crash Course in Science,
Byron Stingily,
Rosa Yemen,
Rhythm & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Cymande,
AZ,
The Human League,
MC5,
The Pretty Things,
Country Teasers,
The Cowsills,
The Cramps,
Newcleus,
Prince Buster,
Make Up,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Germs,
Desert Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
The Mojo Men,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.