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 Seychelles and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Misunderstood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
Matthew Halsall,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Pus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
Index,
The Durutti Column,
China Crisis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dead Boys,
The Skatalites,
the Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rod Modell,
The Busters,
The Blackbyrds,
X-101,
The Walker Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Hill,
Excepter,
Peter and Kerry,
The Barracudas,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
Gang Starr,
The Seeds,
Alison Limerick,
Interpol,
The Toasters,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magma,
KRS-One,
Bill Wells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Audionom,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faust,
Slave,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Dave Gahan,
Colin Newman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
Agent Orange,
Fluxion,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
Jacob Miller,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.