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 Lithuania and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Searchers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Heaven 17,
Robert Wyatt,
Tom Boy,
Marine Girls,
The Searchers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fire Engines,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Christie,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
Q65,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gong,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Spandau Ballet,
David McCallum,
Youth Brigade,
Lightning Bolt,
The Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Womack,
The Remains,
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Vainqueur,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Roxette,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick May,
Terry Callier,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
The Tremeloes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
Ossler,
Magazine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warsaw,
Yaz,
Marmalade,
Vladislav Delay,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.