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 Madagascar and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 Hot Snakes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
10cc,
JFA,
Blancmange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Monks,
The Pop Group,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cal Tjader,
Skriet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Cybotron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Hill,
Peter & Gordon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Franke,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Lou Christie,
Zero Boys,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Severed Heads,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Black Sheep,
Dorothy Ashby,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Skaos,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.