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 Kenya and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Excepter,
Sex Pistols,
Intrusion,
The Raincoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jawbox,
Bad Manners,
Pantytec,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Duran Duran,
Angry Samoans,
Make Up,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Bill Near,
Marcia Griffiths,
Los Fastidios,
A Certain Ratio,
Byron Stingily,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tropical Tobacco,
Freddie Wadling,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tres Demented,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
James White and The Blacks,
Yellowson,
X-101,
Blancmange,
Zapp,
The Invisible,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
Tom Boy,
the Bar-Kays,
Zero Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cramps,
AZ,
David Bowie,
Moss Icon,
Unwound,
DJ Sneak,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Model 500,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.