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 Oman and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Robert Palmer 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 John Coltrane to the electroclash 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
Bobby Byrd,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June Days,
Sun Ra,
The Vogues,
Johnny Osbourne,
China Crisis,
The Fuzztones,
Wally Richardson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
Peter and Kerry,
Warsaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
Circle Jerks,
Deadbeat,
the Human League,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Gang Dance,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
Jerry's Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
Alice Coltrane,
Nas,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brothers Johnson,
The Wake,
Hasil Adkins,
Massinfluence,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Half Japanese,
The Happenings,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Q65,
Shoche,
Flash Fearless,
Young Marble Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy Collins,
Metal Thangz,
Godley & Creme,
Qualms,
Jesper Dahlback,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.