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 Nicaragua and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 The Associates to the grunge 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mr. Review,
Fear,
The Angels of Light,
E-Dancer,
Nirvana,
New Order,
Severed Heads,
Roger Hodgson,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
The Sound,
Rotary Connection,
Can,
The Residents,
Sister Nancy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bush Tetras,
Surgeon,
The Invisible,
The Black Dice,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Music Machine,
EPMD,
10cc,
Howard Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fela Kuti,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Ossler,
Loose Ends,
The Gun Club,
Absolute Body Control,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slick Rick,
Gang Gang Dance,
Television,
Godley & Creme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Litter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
Technova,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.