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 Korea South and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Colin Newman to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The Wake,
Steve Hackett,
Rod Modell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marmalade,
Ultravox,
The Fortunes,
Half Japanese,
Tres Demented,
FM Einheit,
Kerrie Biddell,
Little Man,
The Invisible,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Soft Cell,
Agitation Free,
The Angels of Light,
The Stooges,
The Cure,
Banda Bassotti,
Wally Richardson,
kango's stein massive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Echospace,
Mandrill,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
The Buckinghams,
Gong,
Moby Grape,
Nik Kershaw,
Magazine,
the Normal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Skarface,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Toni Rubio,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dead Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Flag,
Sun City Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wings,
Clear Light,
Todd Terry,
Joe Finger,
Rakim,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.