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 Burundi 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 China Crisis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an oboe 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 clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mojo Men,
Scrapy,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Moss Icon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bush Tetras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Parry Music,
ABC,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warren Ellis,
Deepchord,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Matthew Bourne,
Minor Threat,
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Vogues,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cheater Slicks,
Eli Mardock,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Style,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Real Kids,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Axelrod,
Lalann,
Fad Gadget,
The Doors,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.