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 Morocco and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Babytalk to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Chrome,
Ronnie Foster,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
The Dirtbombs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Hill,
Q65,
Crispian St. Peters,
Basic Channel,
Subhumans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marine Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Con Funk Shun,
The Music Machine,
Agitation Free,
Sam Rivers,
U.S. Maple,
Wire,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Heaven 17,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
In Retrospect,
Fela Kuti,
Sex Pistols,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deepchord,
The Victims,
Circle Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Leonard Cohen,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Lower 48,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Kinks,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.