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 Australia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Leonard Cohen to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
MDC,
David Axelrod,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Little Man,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flash Fearless,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Accadde A,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mission of Burma,
The Angels of Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mark Hollis,
Bang On A Can,
Morten Harket,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
Essential Logic,
D'Angelo,
Mars,
Joyce Sims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
F. McDonald,
Jacob Miller,
Das Ding,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blues Magoos,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Victims,
Soft Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Section 25,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
Marc Almond,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Prunes,
Michelle Simonal,
Prince Buster,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
K-Klass,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Marine Girls,
Procol Harum,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.