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 East Timor and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Scientists,
Scan 7,
Country Teasers,
Depeche Mode,
The Last Poets,
David Bowie,
The Kinks,
Jacob Miller,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minor Threat,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Byrd,
AZ,
Interpol,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nils Olav,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric Copeland,
Black Bananas,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
Average White Band,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Ice-T,
Eden Ahbez,
Marcia Griffiths,
Television,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
Glenn Branca,
Cameo,
Ludus,
David Axelrod,
Minutemen,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Hill,
Nik Kershaw,
Adolescents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Evens,
Colin Newman,
Roxy Music,
Donny Hathaway,
Minnie Riperton,
Drive Like Jehu,
Al Stewart,
Cal Tjader,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Outsiders,
Amon Düül II,
Sam Rivers,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.