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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Dead Boys to the grime 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Gang Green,
Fatback Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Scrapy,
Al Stewart,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radio Birdman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marine Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Skarface,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
Bob Dylan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
The Techniques,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
Duran Duran,
Theoretical Girls,
Jacob Miller,
China Crisis,
Sparks,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doors,
Fela Kuti,
Quadrant,
Yellowson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Excepter,
The Red Krayola,
The Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Bad Manners,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Cymande,
Neil Young,
Ultravox,
The Martian,
Joey Negro,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Motions,
Johnny Clarke,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.