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 Guinea-Bissau and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Tim Buckley,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Unrelated Segments,
The Shadows of Knight,
Liliput,
Alison Limerick,
Ten City,
Morten Harket,
Patti Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
48th St. Collective,
New York Dolls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
Minutemen,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Reuben Wilson,
the Human League,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Maurizio,
Arcadia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultravox,
The Kinks,
These Immortal Souls,
Grauzone,
Buzzcocks,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gichy Dan,
Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Byrd,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
PIL,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.