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 Zambia 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Delta 5 to the jazz 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dark Day,
Slick Rick,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
Motorama,
Donny Hathaway,
Robert Wyatt,
PIL,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brick,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Velvet Underground,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Flesh Eaters,
Au Pairs,
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
Audionom,
Colin Newman,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
Little Man,
Index,
Zero Boys,
The Saints,
The Associates,
Leonard Cohen,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
Agent Orange,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Fatback Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
Connie Case,
Siglo XX,
Circle Jerks,
Gong,
Harpers Bizarre,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Warsaw,
OOIOO,
Jandek,
Dennis Brown,
John Cale,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.