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 China and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Lindisfarne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
China Crisis,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
The Skatalites,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Darondo,
Lightning Bolt,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Robert Hood,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
Don Cherry,
The Barracudas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Easy Going,
The Evens,
The Move,
The Names,
Junior Murvin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
KRS-One,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida,
Tim Buckley,
Alice Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
Echospace,
Visage,
Boredoms,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Germs,
Spandau Ballet,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun City Girls,
Hashim,
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
World's Most,
Aswad,
Juan Atkins,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.