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 Cambodia and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Procol Harum,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Robert Görl,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radio Birdman,
Minor Threat,
Crime,
Public Enemy,
Q and Not U,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis,
Deakin,
Ossler,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
Qualms,
Magazine,
Derrick May,
Nico,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Todd Terry,
Johnny Clarke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Das Ding,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Loose Ends,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
James White and The Blacks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Saccharine Trust,
Donny Hathaway,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.