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 Qatar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
MDC,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Searchers,
Lou Christie,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
Eve St. Jones,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Easy Going,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Niagra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
The Vogues,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
Agent Orange,
Little Man,
Pierre Henry,
The Zeros,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unwound,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bronski Beat,
Monolake,
Average White Band,
Blake Baxter,
Wings,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gichy Dan,
Altered Images,
Althea and Donna,
June of 44,
AZ,
Tres Demented,
Guru Guru,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.