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 Maldives and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Pagans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Flag,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Wire,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül,
Interpol,
Sun Ra,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
10cc,
Scientists,
Faraquet,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
Motorama,
Excepter,
Man Parrish,
Rod Modell,
Alison Limerick,
Eric Copeland,
David Bowie,
Wally Richardson,
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
Joe Smooth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Negative Approach,
Ken Boothe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yazoo,
cv313,
Moebius,
Marmalade,
Gang Starr,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
AZ,
H. Thieme,
The Move,
James White and The Blacks,
The Names,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Soul II Soul,
The Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry's Kids,
Al Stewart,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.