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 Netherlands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Moody Blues to the dance 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Fatback Band,
Bronski Beat,
Niagra,
Arcadia,
48th St. Collective,
Alphaville,
Tears for Fears,
Gang of Four,
Jeru the Damaja,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
Dual Sessions,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lakeside,
The Young Rascals,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Outsiders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mummies,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Grauzone,
Newcleus,
R.M.O.,
The Gap Band,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Wake,
Brand Nubian,
Liliput,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Happenings,
Vladislav Delay,
L. Decosne,
Connie Case,
Main Source,
Sällskapet,
Whodini,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Flag,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Invisible,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Order,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantaleimon,
Moby Grape,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.