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 Greece and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
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 oboe 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 Depeche Mode to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
B.T. Express,
The Invisible,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gabor Szabo,
Cymande,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
CMW,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hot Snakes,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Normal,
Accadde A,
The Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Fear,
Wings,
ABC,
Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Kurtis Blow,
Barrington Levy,
Max Romeo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Bourne,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Sight & Sound,
This Heat,
The Offenders,
Suburban Knight,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Magazine,
Cameo,
The Slackers,
R.M.O.,
Connie Case,
Barclay James Harvest,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Amazonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.