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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Blake Baxter to the dance 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeru the Damaja,
Babytalk,
Sam Rivers,
Lindisfarne,
The Associates,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
The American Breed,
Bronski Beat,
the Slits,
Pole,
The Invisible,
The Saints,
Roxy Music,
The Tremeloes,
The Barracudas,
Lungfish,
Unwound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Little Man,
MDC,
Scrapy,
the Human League,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Junior Murvin,
Cluster,
Boredoms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deadbeat,
Swell Maps,
Scratch Acid,
Au Pairs,
The Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Tres Demented,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Almond,
Oblivians,
Sister Nancy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
Cymande,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Nirvana,
Michelle Simonal,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.