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 Slovakia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Delta 5 to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
David Bowie,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Deepchord,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Underground Resistance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Cecil Taylor,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Divine Comedy,
Aural Exciters,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Chrome,
Thee Headcoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Malaria!,
Archie Shepp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec,
Sexual Harrassment,
Young Marble Giants,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Basic Channel,
Popol Vuh,
Icehouse,
Bill Near,
Angry Samoans,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
Eve St. Jones,
Tom Boy,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
U.S. Maple,
Buzzcocks,
Second Layer,
Scott Walker,
Franke,
Cluster,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Ossler,
Dual Sessions,
Alphaville,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.