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 Burkina and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 June Days to the jazz 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Agent Orange,
Max Romeo,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Yaz,
Tim Buckley,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
MC5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fuzztones,
Aural Exciters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
Lebanon Hanover,
The J.B.'s,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Darondo,
R.M.O.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Byrd,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
X-Ray Spex,
Q65,
Marvin Gaye,
The Moleskins,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Bourne,
Eurythmics,
Quadrant,
Roy Ayers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
Half Japanese,
Minor Threat,
Sight & Sound,
Mandrill,
The Doobie Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
The Techniques,
Gregory Isaacs,
Judy Mowatt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bad Manners,
The Busters,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Victims,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.