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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Bobby Sherman to the disco 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Basic Channel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Darondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fall,
Angry Samoans,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amazonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
Toni Rubio,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Josef K,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Adolescents,
KRS-One,
Mr. Review,
The Searchers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
Fear,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
James White and The Blacks,
Bob Dylan,
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slits,
10cc,
The Gories,
Depeche Mode,
Echospace,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Flag,
The Fortunes,
The Stooges,
The Music Machine,
The Dead C,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moleskins,
Sex Pistols,
Minny Pops,
ABBA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eve St. Jones,
X-102,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Arab on Radar,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.