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 Gabon and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the electroclash 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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Jerry's Kids,
Yellowson,
Y Pants,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
David McCallum,
Tubeway Army,
Sun City Girls,
The Saints,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Average White Band,
Ronan,
Surgeon,
Dawn Penn,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
The Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
Organ,
Mars,
The Associates,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skaos,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Junior Murvin,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ice-T,
10cc,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donny Hathaway,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
the Germs,
The Litter,
Banda Bassotti,
The Offenders,
Boz Scaggs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
The Gories,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stockholm Monsters,
Can,
Masters at Work,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.