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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
Bronski Beat,
Ronnie Foster,
Michelle Simonal,
a-ha,
Funky Four + One,
Sex Pistols,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
Bootsy Collins,
Public Enemy,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scientists,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül II,
Juan Atkins,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
kango's stein massive,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mr. Review,
E-Dancer,
Neil Young,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Finger,
Camouflage,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
EPMD,
The Remains,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
Sonic Youth,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.