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 Nepal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
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 marimba 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 Leonard Cohen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
Nils Olav,
Graham Central Station,
T. Rex,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
Aaron Thompson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shuggie Otis,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Wally Richardson,
Scratch Acid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Stooges,
Eric Copeland,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
This Heat,
Bluetip,
Marc Almond,
New Age Steppers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Arcadia,
James White and The Blacks,
The Black Dice,
The Selecter,
Barbara Tucker,
Quadrant,
The Count Five,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minutemen,
Duran Duran,
Surgeon,
Intrusion,
Blossom Toes,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New York Dolls,
Pantytec,
Judy Mowatt,
Q and Not U,
The Offenders,
JFA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lower 48,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Newcleus,
Roxette,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.