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 Venezuela and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Motorama,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
Quando Quango,
Aaron Thompson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Andrew Hill,
E-Dancer,
Half Japanese,
U.S. Maple,
Rod Modell,
The Misunderstood,
Tres Demented,
The Seeds,
Yellowson,
the Normal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lindisfarne,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Whodini,
Laurel Aitken,
Wings,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Monochrome Set,
The Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
New York Dolls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Busters,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Barrington Levy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Talk Talk,
Radiohead,
Leonard Cohen,
James White and The Blacks,
Japan,
Scientists,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
Neu!,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Oblivians,
The Sisters of Mercy,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.