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 China and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roger Hodgson to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Funky Four + One,
MC5,
Junior Murvin,
The Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
The Martian,
Livin' Joy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Zeros,
Swell Maps,
The Real Kids,
The Standells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
Jacob Miller,
ABBA,
Jerry's Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Gastr Del Sol,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Second Layer,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nirvana,
The Music Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Cameo,
Main Source,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faraquet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eurythmics,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Sneak,
Malaria!,
Zero Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Can,
Sound Behaviour,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Liliput,
Eli Mardock,
X-Ray Spex,
Bluetip,
Soft Cell,
Skaos,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.