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 Singapore and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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. Rex to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Hardrive,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
MC5,
Ohio Players,
The Divine Comedy,
Roger Hodgson,
Agitation Free,
One Last Wish,
New York Dolls,
Can,
U.S. Maple,
Althea and Donna,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Connie Case,
John Holt,
Tom Boy,
Marvin Gaye,
Supertramp,
Warsaw,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pole,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
Sister Nancy,
A Certain Ratio,
Qualms,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warren Ellis,
Mission of Burma,
The Angels of Light,
Parry Music,
Pylon,
Scratch Acid,
Gong,
David Axelrod,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Wyatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
Mars,
Bill Near,
The Slackers,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.