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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Remains to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
The New Christs,
The Fall,
Fear,
Make Up,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scott Walker,
Radiohead,
The Grass Roots,
The Pretty Things,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Roxy Music,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
FM Einheit,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bluetip,
The Moleskins,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
Alton Ellis,
The Last Poets,
U.S. Maple,
The Durutti Column,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Normal,
Mars,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül,
the Germs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
The Young Rascals,
Pere Ubu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Youth Brigade,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
The Slits,
Suicide,
Black Bananas,
Bob Dylan,
Model 500,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.