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 Azerbaijan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lakeside to the dance 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantytec,
Dawn Penn,
Piero Umiliani,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
Marine Girls,
Livin' Joy,
The Associates,
Junior Murvin,
Buzzcocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Zapp,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Colin Newman,
Oblivians,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
The Cure,
James White and The Blacks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Von Mondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Main Source,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Accadde A,
Sam Rivers,
Lalann,
Minor Threat,
The Gun Club,
Icehouse,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Eden Ahbez,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Monolake,
Joensuu 1685,
KRS-One,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gichy Dan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Durutti Column,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.