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 Palau and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Nico to the funk 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David McCallum,
Saccharine Trust,
Yaz,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hashim,
Robert Hood,
Arcadia,
June Days,
Average White Band,
The J.B.'s,
Sight & Sound,
Skaos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
Duran Duran,
Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultra Naté,
Ultravox,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Piero Umiliani,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Gang Green,
Groovy Waters,
Liliput,
Dual Sessions,
the Slits,
The Move,
Buzzcocks,
Quantec,
Jawbox,
Michelle Simonal,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Adolescents,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Fear,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agitation Free,
Marcia Griffiths,
June of 44,
Warren Ellis,
the Normal,
Todd Rundgren,
Mandrill,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.