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 Dominica and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eli Mardock,
Buzzcocks,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Litter,
This Heat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
FM Einheit,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
The Slackers,
Mad Mike,
Barclay James Harvest,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Minor Threat,
Warsaw,
Accadde A,
Cameo,
Mars,
Can,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
Darondo,
Reagan Youth,
Eddi Front,
Ornette Coleman,
Stetsasonic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Spandau Ballet,
Cluster,
Aaron Thompson,
Jerry's Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Kayak,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiohead,
Pagans,
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.