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 Burundi and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Human League to the crunk 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Moby Grape,
Radiohead,
Rufus Thomas,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Holt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cameo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Animal Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
ABBA,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
Brick,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Ohio Players,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donny Hathaway,
Kaleidoscope,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rotary Connection,
Scratch Acid,
David Bowie,
The Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Amazonics,
Ossler,
The Sound,
Loose Ends,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Sneak,
Hasil Adkins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
The Beau Brummels,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
Sexual Harrassment,
Infiniti,
Outsiders,
Mark Hollis,
Ronan,
Bobby Womack,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.