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 Yemen and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe 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 Tres Demented to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
The Smoke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mantronix,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
Nils Olav,
Bootsy Collins,
Henry Cow,
Bill Near,
Don Cherry,
Gong,
Easy Going,
The Angels of Light,
Ultravox,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
Agent Orange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
Eddi Front,
Average White Band,
Kas Product,
The Black Dice,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Babytalk,
Bad Manners,
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
Icehouse,
Little Man,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reagan Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
The Raincoats,
The Star Department,
Al Stewart,
The Young Rascals,
Kevin Saunderson,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
Gang of Four,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Litter,
Marine Girls,
Colin Newman,
Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
Scion,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.