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 Lesotho and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ken Boothe to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Ossler,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grey Daturas,
Urselle,
Make Up,
Cheater Slicks,
John Coltrane,
Technova,
Roxy Music,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
Todd Rundgren,
Amon Düül,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Machine,
Interpol,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fugs,
Basic Channel,
T. Rex,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scott Walker,
Trumans Water,
Hardrive,
Jawbox,
Dead Boys,
Altered Images,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
Ituana,
Heaven 17,
The Young Rascals,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Panda Bear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alton Ellis,
Ten City,
Sandy B,
Pagans,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.