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 South Africa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Pagans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Blancmange,
Bluetip,
Wire,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pop Group,
Dual Sessions,
Sällskapet,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mark Hollis,
The Misunderstood,
Leonard Cohen,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Christie,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Excepter,
John Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Moss Icon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lindisfarne,
The Electric Prunes,
Deadbeat,
Stetsasonic,
Archie Shepp,
The Real Kids,
Patti Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.