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 Afghanistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gun Club,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxy Music,
Half Japanese,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Near,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Hoover,
New York Dolls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Goldenarms,
Suburban Knight,
Duran Duran,
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Circle Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Stetsasonic,
The Kinks,
Michelle Simonal,
Freddie Wadling,
Tears for Fears,
Main Source,
Nik Kershaw,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Bananas,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
CMW,
Royal Trux,
Pulsallama,
Erykah Badu,
The Star Department,
Japan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure,
Marine Girls,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Q65,
Bang On A Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.