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 Laos and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tim Buckley to the funk 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
The Velvet Underground,
Fear,
Altered Images,
Leonard Cohen,
Cameo,
Deepchord,
Masters at Work,
The Wake,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Young Rascals,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Public Image Ltd.,
Michelle Simonal,
B.T. Express,
Banda Bassotti,
Icehouse,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
Bang On A Can,
Japan,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
Chrome,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Blancmange,
Shuggie Otis,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Excepter,
The Move,
Slave,
Alice Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roger Hodgson,
Camberwell Now,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Main Source,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Surgeon,
Brick,
Lalann,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.