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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pharoah Sanders 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
La Düsseldorf,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
the Normal,
R.M.O.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pere Ubu,
The Slackers,
The Misunderstood,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Blancmange,
Iggy Pop,
The Busters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Wells,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Gong,
The Kinks,
The Real Kids,
LL Cool J,
PIL,
Section 25,
Morten Harket,
Rekid,
Y Pants,
The Leaves,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kas Product,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Scion,
The Wake,
Mary Jane Girls,
Icehouse,
DNA,
The Fall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Nas,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick Morgan,
Sam Rivers,
Pylon,
Mars,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.