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 Nigeria and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Trumans Water to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Simply Red,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Zapp,
Ponytail,
Second Layer,
Circle Jerks,
Metal Thangz,
Rotary Connection,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Pretty Things,
Neu!,
Fluxion,
Quando Quango,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kurtis Blow,
Godley & Creme,
LL Cool J,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios,
Ultra Naté,
Stiv Bators,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacob Miller,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Charles Mingus,
Pantytec,
Glenn Branca,
Unrelated Segments,
The Raincoats,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Niagra,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minny Pops,
The Fortunes,
Intrusion,
Skaos,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.