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 Armenia 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Gichy Dan,
Technova,
The Remains,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David Bowie,
Iggy Pop,
DJ Style,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris & Cosey,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy Collins,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Erykah Badu,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Moon,
Sandy B,
the Germs,
The Sonics,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
The Litter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
Banda Bassotti,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
CMW,
The Happenings,
Qualms,
DNA,
La Düsseldorf,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Kayak,
The Red Krayola,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
The Birthday Party,
Yellowson,
Bluetip,
Eve St. Jones,
The Modern Lovers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anakelly,
Ultimate Spinach,
Freddie Wadling,
Faust,
EPMD,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.