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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Durutti Column to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Sonic Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Underground Resistance,
John Coltrane,
The Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Little Man,
Slick Rick,
Kayak,
Althea and Donna,
The Moody Blues,
New Age Steppers,
Cecil Taylor,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kevin Saunderson,
Godley & Creme,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Dolphy,
Monks,
Surgeon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League,
Mission of Burma,
Joey Negro,
Scan 7,
Camberwell Now,
Lucky Dragons,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siglo XX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Shuggie Otis,
Hot Snakes,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
DJ Style,
Trumans Water,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Radiohead,
E-Dancer,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Sherman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yazoo,
Lungfish,
Aswad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hoover,
Sixth Finger,
Ultra Naté,
Eurythmics,
Joensuu 1685,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.