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 Estonia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Joey Negro,
OOIOO,
Pagans,
Avey Tare,
X-Ray Spex,
Al Stewart,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus,
Arab on Radar,
Spoonie Gee,
Boredoms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
Neu!,
Maurizio,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Red Krayola,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Tremeloes,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Tim Buckley,
Kool Moe Dee,
ABBA,
Maleditus Sound,
The Remains,
Public Enemy,
MDC,
The Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Graham Central Station,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slackers,
June of 44,
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kayak,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül II,
Ponytail,
Section 25,
Visage,
Quadrant,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
World's Most,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
Quando Quango,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.