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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Qualms,
Duran Duran,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABBA,
Heaven 17,
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
Oblivians,
Chrome,
Darondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
Stereo Dub,
Motorama,
Drive Like Jehu,
This Heat,
The Misunderstood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
These Immortal Souls,
Joe Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Brick,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Arthur Verocai,
the Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
Second Layer,
T. Rex,
Toni Rubio,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
Groovy Waters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Martian,
The Gladiators,
Roger Hodgson,
In Retrospect,
The Human League,
The Star Department,
The United States of America,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Lalann,
Altered Images,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.