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 Mozambique and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Amon Düül to the dance 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves 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?
Ronan,
Camouflage,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
The Selecter,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Holt,
The Raincoats,
K-Klass,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Rosa Yemen,
Wally Richardson,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare,
Ultra Naté,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
Silicon Teens,
Bauhaus,
Siglo XX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Susan Cadogan,
T. Rex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultravox,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Franke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deakin,
Joy Division,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Reed,
Fluxion,
Mo-Dettes,
Skarface,
The Black Dice,
The Gap Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Tres Demented,
Marine Girls,
Eurythmics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson,
Jandek,
Reagan Youth,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.