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 Czech Republic and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lou Reed 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 Association to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
The Skatalites,
These Immortal Souls,
Scratch Acid,
Basic Channel,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pere Ubu,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Roxy Music,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Funkadelic,
Warren Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Cymande,
Eric Dolphy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Altered Images,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
Joyce Sims,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
Henry Cow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Half Japanese,
Davy DMX,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minutemen,
DJ Style,
Model 500,
Piero Umiliani,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
The Evens,
Echospace,
Mantronix,
Zero Boys,
Hoover,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shoche,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.