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 India and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Pretty Things to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suicide,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Albert Ayler,
Cybotron,
Nas,
Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
Stetsasonic,
Hasil Adkins,
Porter Ricks,
Agent Orange,
The Motions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
Roger Hodgson,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Amazonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
Delta 5,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Morten Harket,
Clear Light,
Motorama,
Scientists,
The Techniques,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Slave,
Sound Behaviour,
Procol Harum,
Crash Course in Science,
Bluetip,
Magazine,
Second Layer,
Oblivians,
Panda Bear,
the Germs,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang On A Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Charles Mingus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Al Stewart,
Brand Nubian,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moebius,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.