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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Spoonie Gee,
Smog,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barry Ungar,
The Birthday Party,
Fad Gadget,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
AZ,
Funkadelic,
Hardrive,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stiv Bators,
The Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bootsy Collins,
Marmalade,
Sister Nancy,
Bauhaus,
The Searchers,
Dual Sessions,
Eric Copeland,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quantec,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flipper,
Young Marble Giants,
Au Pairs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Soft Machine,
Suicide,
Sonny Sharrock,
La Düsseldorf,
Rotary Connection,
Clear Light,
The Doors,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young,
Television,
Barbara Tucker,
Kas Product,
Sun City Girls,
Goldenarms,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Nik Kershaw,
Glenn Branca,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Hood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.