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 Slovakia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Moebius to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dark Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
Sparks,
the Association,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Iggy Pop,
The Moleskins,
The Mummies,
Charles Mingus,
Babytalk,
Index,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camouflage,
Ludus,
Aural Exciters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Skriet,
Adolescents,
Radio Birdman,
Rites of Spring,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blues Magoos,
Oneida,
Newcleus,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash,
Symarip,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter & Gordon,
Archie Shepp,
Dennis Brown,
Siglo XX,
Ponytail,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.