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 Philippines and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nick Fraelich to the rock 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Susan Cadogan,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
The Monks,
Nirvana,
John Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Aural Exciters,
Y Pants,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-Ray Spex,
Surgeon,
Negative Approach,
Lalann,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scratch Acid,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moby Grape,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
Das Ding,
Massinfluence,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
Curtis Mayfield,
World's Most,
June Days,
Gong,
Infiniti,
Ornette Coleman,
Oneida,
Nico,
John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wally Richardson,
The Monochrome Set,
Lungfish,
Rod Modell,
H. Thieme,
Dark Day,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alton Ellis,
Scrapy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grauzone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.