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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pretty Things to the dance 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Move,
Crooked Eye,
Amon Düül,
Sight & Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Vainqueur,
Brick,
Leonard Cohen,
Mission of Burma,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Ituana,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Sonic Youth,
Hardrive,
Gang Green,
Mad Mike,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monolake,
Intrusion,
Marmalade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Lungfish,
the Swans,
The Walker Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
John Cale,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
June Days,
The Offenders,
The Divine Comedy,
Alison Limerick,
The Gap Band,
Parry Music,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Visage,
Wolf Eyes,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flipper,
Pussy Galore,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Silicon Teens,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.