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 Bhutan and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Motions to the grunge 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sparks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Isaac Hayes,
Swell Maps,
Marcia Griffiths,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Womack,
The Associates,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
This Heat,
Max Romeo,
Surgeon,
Nick Fraelich,
Spoonie Gee,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mojo Men,
Porter Ricks,
Cheater Slicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
Roger Hodgson,
Cybotron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-Ray Spex,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
Maleditus Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amazonics,
Eli Mardock,
Marvin Gaye,
Crime,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
Faust,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
cv313,
Ice-T,
Aural Exciters,
John Lydon,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
The Human League,
Althea and Donna,
Excepter,
Pylon,
Can,
Unrelated Segments,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.