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 San Marino and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jeff Lynne to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fall,
John Lydon,
Archie Shepp,
Mad Mike,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra,
Inner City,
The Misunderstood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
Sandy B,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sonics,
Severed Heads,
Cheater Slicks,
Soft Machine,
Pole,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Pierre Henry,
Jawbox,
Ten City,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
Soulsonic Force,
Deakin,
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
In Retrospect,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Copeland,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
kango's stein massive,
Marc Almond,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry's Kids,
Average White Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacques Brel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pere Ubu,
Royal Trux,
The Dirtbombs,
Deepchord,
Pantytec,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.