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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pretty Things to the dance 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fuzztones,
The Monks,
The Angels of Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
One Last Wish,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minutemen,
Swell Maps,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suicide,
Joy Division,
The Young Rascals,
L. Decosne,
The Blackbyrds,
CMW,
Depeche Mode,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lindisfarne,
Ronan,
The Skatalites,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Black Moon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Janne Schatter,
Blossom Toes,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Christie,
Don Cherry,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doors,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roger Hodgson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.