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 Greece and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Anakelly to the grunge 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rotary Connection,
David Bowie,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Yellowson,
Lucky Dragons,
ABC,
Janne Schatter,
Erasure,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Derrick May,
Wire,
Charles Mingus,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Beasts of Bourbon,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
The Knickerbockers,
Crooked Eye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Mad Mike,
Kas Product,
Guru Guru,
Thee Headcoats,
Crash Course in Science,
Pulsallama,
Masters at Work,
Jacques Brel,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
Metal Thangz,
Amon Düül II,
Neil Young,
Yazoo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Barracudas,
Livin' Joy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nas,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.