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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 The Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Au Pairs,
Ohio Players,
The Doors,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
CMW,
Gerry Rafferty,
Max Romeo,
China Crisis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scientists,
a-ha,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
X-Ray Spex,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
Terry Callier,
Ronan,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
MDC,
The Modern Lovers,
Whodini,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
Cybotron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David McCallum,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners,
Altered Images,
Bluetip,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Darondo,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
World's Most,
Minny Pops,
The Durutti Column,
Throbbing Gristle,
Archie Shepp,
Soft Cell,
June Days,
Gastr Del Sol,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.