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 Azerbaijan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Christie to the punk 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
Cybotron,
Oblivians,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Wells,
The Vogues,
Scrapy,
Little Man,
Underground Resistance,
The Young Rascals,
David McCallum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alton Ellis,
John Holt,
June of 44,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
The Buckinghams,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
Scion,
Can,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agitation Free,
World's Most,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Echospace,
Moby Grape,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlback,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Names,
Nirvana,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Sherman,
David Bowie,
MDC,
Hoover,
Marmalade,
Deakin,
The Monks,
Barry Ungar,
JFA,
Eddi Front,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Roger Hodgson,
Lungfish,
Shuggie Otis,
Arthur Verocai,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
FM Einheit,
Niagra,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.