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 Lesotho and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bill Wells to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
The Saints,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
The Fall,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye,
Warren Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed,
Fat Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
Aloha Tigers,
Faust,
Youth Brigade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kayak,
Mars,
The Blackbyrds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Shoche,
Tim Buckley,
Excepter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
John Coltrane,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
Bang On A Can,
DNA,
Robert Hood,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Christie,
Gichy Dan,
Laurel Aitken,
Faraquet,
Procol Harum,
Pylon,
June Days,
Chris Corsano,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Residents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mad Mike,
Hoover,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roger Hodgson,
Brand Nubian,
The Gladiators,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.