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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cowsills,
Barrington Levy,
The Mojo Men,
Glenn Branca,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sight & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Coltrane,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Goldenarms,
the Soft Cell,
Theoretical Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Anthony Braxton,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Con Funk Shun,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABBA,
The Cure,
The Monochrome Set,
DNA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Althea and Donna,
Crooked Eye,
Yazoo,
The Fugs,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
Lebanon Hanover,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Boredoms,
Nils Olav,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deakin,
Al Stewart,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
Agent Orange,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kas Product,
Nirvana,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.