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 Bolivia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 The Moody Blues to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Gap Band,
June Days,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ohio Players,
Crime,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers,
Yusef Lateef,
Hoover,
Spandau Ballet,
Severed Heads,
Peter & Gordon,
Saccharine Trust,
Masters at Work,
Cecil Taylor,
Thee Headcoats,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funkadelic,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
Tom Boy,
Kerri Chandler,
The Evens,
Aswad,
Tres Demented,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Sam Rivers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
Lyres,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
Guru Guru,
PIL,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
Cymande,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tim Buckley,
The Victims,
Interpol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.