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 Slovenia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Smoke,
Scientists,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Absolute Body Control,
Essential Logic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantytec,
Grey Daturas,
Graham Central Station,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Sonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gladiators,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Goldenarms,
Yaz,
Bobby Sherman,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
Steve Hackett,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon,
Second Layer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
E-Dancer,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Chris Corsano,
Morten Harket,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
kango's stein massive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cheater Slicks,
Dave Gahan,
The Buckinghams,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
Ronan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Theoretical Girls,
Connie Case,
Lucky Dragons,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.