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 Chile and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rites of Spring,
the Association,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suburban Knight,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cramps,
Drexciya,
Slave,
Bill Near,
The Slits,
Blancmange,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
The Blues Magoos,
the Swans,
Boredoms,
Fela Kuti,
Y Pants,
Mission of Burma,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Little Man,
Qualms,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Simply Red,
MC5,
Sun City Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
Amon Düül II,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Japan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Althea and Donna,
Ultimate Spinach,
Zero Boys,
Echospace,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal,
Television,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
Ossler,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thompson Twins,
Dark Day,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble 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.