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 Liechtenstein and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
New Order,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
China Crisis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stereo Dub,
Oneida,
Quando Quango,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jawbox,
The Leaves,
Tomorrow,
Rufus Thomas,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
David McCallum,
Theoretical Girls,
Alison Limerick,
The Residents,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fugazi,
Crime,
Freddie Wadling,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
Soft Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barbara Tucker,
Barrington Levy,
X-Ray Spex,
Erasure,
Dead Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.