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 Singapore and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Move,
Spoonie Gee,
Boredoms,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
E-Dancer,
Black Moon,
Radiohead,
Sarah Menescal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Von Mondo,
Soulsonic Force,
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
FM Einheit,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Judy Mowatt,
Magma,
Joe Smooth,
Hasil Adkins,
Au Pairs,
Drexciya,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pantaleimon,
The Wake,
Ornette Coleman,
Index,
Average White Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Byron Stingily,
June of 44,
David Axelrod,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tim Buckley,
Television,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultravox,
Jawbox,
Amon Düül,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.