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 Austria and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rod Modell to the grime 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Robert Hood,
Scratch Acid,
Anakelly,
Schoolly D,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Faraquet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Chrome,
Smog,
KRS-One,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare,
Average White Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monks,
These Immortal Souls,
Mission of Burma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fugazi,
the Human League,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Shuggie Otis,
Qualms,
Cameo,
Hashim,
The Slackers,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pere Ubu,
The Neon Judgement,
Jeru the Damaja,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Machine,
The Skatalites,
John Foxx,
OOIOO,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
The Beau Brummels,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.