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 Vanuatu and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Albert Ayler to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Carl Craig,
Adolescents,
Kerrie Biddell,
Can,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
Sarah Menescal,
Siglo XX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Velvet Underground,
FM Einheit,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soulsonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Boredoms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pantaleimon,
Glenn Branca,
Massinfluence,
Popol Vuh,
The Count Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome,
Robert Wyatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joyce Sims,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grauzone,
Inner City,
Animal Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Cheater Slicks,
Ludus,
The Young Rascals,
Brick,
The Gap Band,
F. McDonald,
Graham Central Station,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Teasers,
Joy Division,
Brothers Johnson,
Dennis Brown,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
The Zeros,
Albert Ayler,
The Doors,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cramps,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.