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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Fortunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Delta 5,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Halsall,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Yaz,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
Morten Harket,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MDC,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Grass Roots,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Lightning Bolt,
Maurizio,
John Foxx,
The Cowsills,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
Magma,
Curtis Mayfield,
The American Breed,
The Moleskins,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skaos,
Gong,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hardrive,
Massinfluence,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Alphaville,
The Stooges,
Heaven 17,
Unwound,
The Five Americans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angry Samoans,
Chris & Cosey,
The Happenings,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Black Flag,
Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.