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 Belgium and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dirtbombs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
K-Klass,
Moby Grape,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chrome,
Funky Four + One,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Anakelly,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
Wire,
Avey Tare,
Rotary Connection,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Kayak,
the Bar-Kays,
Idris Muhammad,
Darondo,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
Cluster,
Dennis Brown,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Wells,
Magazine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Coltrane,
Deakin,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
Scott Walker,
The Offenders,
Stetsasonic,
Nirvana,
the Association,
X-102,
Zapp,
Suburban Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bill Near,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crash Course in Science,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Das Ding,
New Order,
Masters at Work,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
Tom Boy,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Banda Bassotti,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.