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 United States 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls 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?
Henry Cow,
The Young Rascals,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
The Cure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Clear Light,
Yaz,
X-Ray Spex,
Buzzcocks,
Rosa Yemen,
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
The Raincoats,
Radiopuhelimet,
L. Decosne,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young,
The Barracudas,
Curtis Mayfield,
K-Klass,
Judy Mowatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doors,
Prince Buster,
Matthew Bourne,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quadrant,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sound Behaviour,
the Soft Cell,
T.S.O.L.,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Clarke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
Kaleidoscope,
Faraquet,
Piero Umiliani,
The Wake,
Graham Central Station,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Charles Mingus,
The Moody Blues,
Black Sheep,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.