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 Pakistan and from Edmonton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Aural Exciters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Interpol,
Marc Almond,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fugs,
Black Pus,
Glenn Branca,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Quando Quango,
Mad Mike,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
Faust,
Hasil Adkins,
Oblivians,
Zero Boys,
Terry Callier,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Residents,
Warsaw,
Dennis Brown,
Cluster,
Magazine,
the Normal,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Kinks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
Vainqueur,
the Slits,
Scan 7,
Duran Duran,
Fear,
Fad Gadget,
FM Einheit,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Jacques Brel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mars,
Bootsy Collins,
Desert Stars,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sight & Sound,
Mr. Review,
Soul II Soul,
Visage,
DJ Sneak,
Cymande,
Nas,
Unrelated Segments,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.