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 Croatia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Underground Resistance,
The Cramps,
T.S.O.L.,
Make Up,
Joey Negro,
The Angels of Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Rufus Thomas,
In Retrospect,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Copeland,
The Gap Band,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Nils Olav,
Das Ding,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rod Modell,
Ten City,
Pagans,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Teasers,
The Smiths,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
Surgeon,
The United States of America,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Terry Callier,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Litter,
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
Khruangbin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amazonics,
Eve St. Jones,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Divine Comedy,
Tim Buckley,
the Swans,
Leonard Cohen,
Andrew Hill,
D'Angelo,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid,
Chris Corsano,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.