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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hasil Adkins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Man Parrish,
Newcleus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rod Modell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Chrome,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zero Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Bauhaus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Patti Smith,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Niagra,
Suburban Knight,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
The Music Machine,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
Ten City,
Josef K,
Boredoms,
Colin Newman,
Sight & Sound,
The Remains,
Stereo Dub,
John Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
Dave Gahan,
Scrapy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Trumans Water,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Connie Case,
The Index,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
These Immortal Souls,
Lyres,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.