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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lower 48 to the techno 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Whodini,
Swell Maps,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deakin,
Marvin Gaye,
Sarah Menescal,
Lower 48,
David McCallum,
The Doors,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blake Baxter,
The Misunderstood,
Index,
Aural Exciters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Velvet Underground,
Mad Mike,
Depeche Mode,
Babytalk,
The Standells,
Scion,
Scott Walker,
Lyres,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young,
Todd Rundgren,
Kerri Chandler,
Grey Daturas,
Adolescents,
Sam Rivers,
Glenn Branca,
Camberwell Now,
Donny Hathaway,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
The Moody Blues,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
EPMD,
Severed Heads,
U.S. Maple,
Boz Scaggs,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
Fad Gadget,
Lebanon Hanover,
Essential Logic,
Charles Mingus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rotary Connection,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.