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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Al Stewart to the funk 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
The Real Kids,
Piero Umiliani,
Danielle Patucci,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Hill,
The New Christs,
The Residents,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Marshall Jefferson,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tim Buckley,
Sparks,
Sight & Sound,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Absolute Body Control,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Sherman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magazine,
Aloha Tigers,
Jawbox,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
CMW,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brothers Johnson,
These Immortal Souls,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Excepter,
DJ Style,
Wasted Youth,
The Black Dice,
Main Source,
Soft Cell,
Robert Görl,
L. Decosne,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter & Gordon,
The Five Americans,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.