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 Kazakhstan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 Colin Newman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bootsy Collins,
Max Romeo,
Fear,
Judy Mowatt,
Inner City,
The Saints,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Alice Coltrane,
Nico,
The Neon Judgement,
Skarface,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Outsiders,
Marmalade,
Echospace,
Excepter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiohead,
Toni Rubio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
Flipper,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young,
Grey Daturas,
The Five Americans,
Scan 7,
Urselle,
Negative Approach,
Spandau Ballet,
Thompson Twins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Donny Hathaway,
Moby Grape,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nils Olav,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Yaz,
Simply Red,
Lindisfarne,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lower 48,
Wings,
Altered Images,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
Q and Not U,
Kas Product,
Reagan Youth,
The Durutti Column,
Joyce Sims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Japan,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.