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 Guinea-Bissau and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 China Crisis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Eric Dolphy,
Depeche Mode,
Icehouse,
La Düsseldorf,
Malaria!,
Ornette Coleman,
Subhumans,
Massinfluence,
Roger Hodgson,
Chrome,
The Raincoats,
Quando Quango,
Chris & Cosey,
The Residents,
Pole,
Nik Kershaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers,
Saccharine Trust,
Ossler,
Dark Day,
Scion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bootsy Collins,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed,
Khruangbin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Negative Approach,
The Buckinghams,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Liliput,
CMW,
Joyce Sims,
Gerry Rafferty,
Traffic Nightmare,
Curtis Mayfield,
Anthony Braxton,
Excepter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Sonic Youth,
Main Source,
The Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
James White and The Blacks,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Sister Nancy,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Modern Lovers,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.