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 Swaziland and from New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Traffic Nightmare to the grime 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brass Construction,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
Alphaville,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Donald Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Schoolly D,
The Misunderstood,
the Sonics,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Fugazi,
The Red Krayola,
The Birthday Party,
Dennis Brown,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Franke,
The Star Department,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alice Coltrane,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Crime,
Smog,
Tommy Roe,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
Morten Harket,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boogie Down Productions,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonny Sharrock,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Sheep,
The Young Rascals,
Marvin Gaye,
K-Klass,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
The United States of America,
Duran Duran,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.