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 Ghana 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sonics to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
The Real Kids,
The Move,
AZ,
Ultra Naté,
K-Klass,
Throbbing Gristle,
Whodini,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scion,
Moby Grape,
cv313,
Glenn Branca,
Eve St. Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
Saccharine Trust,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Cecil Taylor,
Gabor Szabo,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Kerri Chandler,
Magma,
Ronan,
The Sonics,
Godley & Creme,
The Leaves,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hoover,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ice-T,
Rites of Spring,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
Mars,
Babytalk,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.