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 Seychelles and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Tremeloes to the jazz 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Kaleidoscope,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers,
Theoretical Girls,
This Heat,
The Move,
Aaron Thompson,
MC5,
Sight & Sound,
Althea and Donna,
Letta Mbulu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glenn Branca,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rod Modell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Rundgren,
Lightning Bolt,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Moleskins,
Alphaville,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Thompson Twins,
Black Sheep,
Boredoms,
Liliput,
Smog,
Excepter,
Monks,
The Slackers,
Harmonia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Near,
The Leaves,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
UT,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
Sonic Youth,
Desert Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
L. Decosne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Nico,
Das Ding,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.