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 Colombia and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fatback Band to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
Panda Bear,
Connie Case,
Al Stewart,
Ohio Players,
Pulsallama,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Amazonics,
Royal Trux,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lalo Schifrin,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dave Clark Five,
Can,
Goldenarms,
Niagra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
Symarip,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
Suburban Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
Idris Muhammad,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers,
Susan Cadogan,
Sarah Menescal,
Magazine,
Moby Grape,
Nas,
Carl Craig,
Section 25,
The Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Infiniti,
Kas Product,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David McCallum,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.