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 El Salvador and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Fat Boys,
Alice Coltrane,
Warsaw,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Dolphy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Reuben Wilson,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mummies,
Lalann,
Talk Talk,
Leonard Cohen,
Rod Modell,
Roxy Music,
Loose Ends,
Mantronix,
Peter & Gordon,
the Swans,
Joe Finger,
Intrusion,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Ultra Naté,
Sonic Youth,
Whodini,
John Lydon,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Fraelich,
Eurythmics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pantytec,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Order,
June Days,
Ossler,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fall,
Amazonics,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.