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 Kenya and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Nas,
Quantec,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Man Eating Sloth,
Heaven 17,
Sällskapet,
Dark Day,
Bobby Byrd,
John Foxx,
Rites of Spring,
Iggy Pop,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skarface,
B.T. Express,
Aural Exciters,
Scott Walker,
The Saints,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeff Lynne,
The Barracudas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Little Man,
Kurtis Blow,
The Vogues,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Style,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moby Grape,
Technova,
The Modern Lovers,
Mary Jane Girls,
This Heat,
Skriet,
Eurythmics,
Circle Jerks,
Pole,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Country Teasers,
Easy Going,
The Toasters,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-102,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mantronix,
Anakelly,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
Bill Wells,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mars,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.