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 New Zealand and from Delhi.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Henry Cow to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
a-ha,
Bill Near,
The Invisible,
Television Personalities,
Nico,
The Tremeloes,
Pagans,
Kerri Chandler,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Sheep,
The Names,
The Doobie Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harry Pussy,
Moss Icon,
The Fall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
Q and Not U,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alphaville,
Neil Young,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Audionom,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Shoche,
Stetsasonic,
Minor Threat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Organ,
The Dead C,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
Kayak,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.