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 Congo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Skaos to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
The Monochrome Set,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jeff Mills,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
The Seeds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Lynne,
Sight & Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
La Düsseldorf,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Skaos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blackbyrds,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
The Kinks,
Aloha Tigers,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hot Snakes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Techniques,
Neu!,
Mo-Dettes,
Angry Samoans,
Henry Cow,
Porter Ricks,
A Certain Ratio,
Das Ding,
Goldenarms,
Jimmy McGriff,
The J.B.'s,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
Rakim,
Mandrill,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.