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 India and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The Golliwogs to the electroclash 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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Howard Jones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Don Cherry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moss Icon,
New Age Steppers,
Television,
Metal Thangz,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
June Days,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
LL Cool J,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun Ra,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moody Blues,
Quando Quango,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harpers Bizarre,
K-Klass,
Royal Trux,
The Monks,
Flipper,
Eddi Front,
Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Letta Mbulu,
Panda Bear,
Mo-Dettes,
L. Decosne,
Joe Smooth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Icehouse,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wally Richardson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Sarah Menescal,
The Searchers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
The Slits,
Mission of Burma,
Average White Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Television Personalities,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.