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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Grey Daturas,
Chris Corsano,
Barrington Levy,
The Gladiators,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
Fugazi,
Kenny Larkin,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ice-T,
Bauhaus,
The Mojo Men,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Walker Brothers,
10cc,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacob Miller,
Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Enemy,
John Foxx,
The Monochrome Set,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bronski Beat,
The Residents,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pylon,
The Offenders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Desert Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
DNA,
Yellowson,
Jeff Lynne,
Groovy Waters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kaleidoscope,
Mo-Dettes,
Blancmange,
The Fortunes,
The Red Krayola,
Index,
Zero Boys,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Trumans Water,
Suicide,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.