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 Poland and from Sao Paulo.
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 Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Buzzcocks to the jazz 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Trojans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vainqueur,
Altered Images,
Q65,
Can,
Kas Product,
Nik Kershaw,
Scan 7,
Radiopuhelimet,
Darondo,
The Busters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
Amon Düül II,
Sister Nancy,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vladislav Delay,
Minny Pops,
The Searchers,
Harmonia,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
The Dirtbombs,
Trumans Water,
Lindisfarne,
Excepter,
Judy Mowatt,
The Young Rascals,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Black Moon,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Bananas,
The Blues Magoos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
The Gap Band,
The Index,
KRS-One,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.