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 Palau and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the electroclash 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
Rekid,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vladislav Delay,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Brass Construction,
Cymande,
Ornette Coleman,
Morten Harket,
A Certain Ratio,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
David Axelrod,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fear,
Moss Icon,
Hardrive,
Al Stewart,
Swans,
L. Decosne,
Ronan,
Boz Scaggs,
Roger Hodgson,
Mark Hollis,
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T. Rex,
The Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Ultravox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Matthew Halsall,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Peter & Gordon,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rod Modell,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
Television,
Alison Limerick,
Deepchord,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.