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 Morocco and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 cv313 to the grunge 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Buckinghams,
The Litter,
The Five Americans,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barclay James Harvest,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
Fela Kuti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
The Count Five,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Halsall,
John Lydon,
Sparks,
Deepchord,
Arthur Verocai,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Hashim,
Dead Boys,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Amazonics,
DJ Sneak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Heaven 17,
Robert Hood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Sällskapet,
Radiopuhelimet,
D'Angelo,
Vainqueur,
Gong,
The Busters,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Theoretical Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.