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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Chris Corsano to the punk 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
Harmonia,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
Godley & Creme,
Aswad,
The Sonics,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Mills,
The Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Holt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Five Americans,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
The Residents,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Davy DMX,
Clear Light,
The Litter,
The Buckinghams,
Piero Umiliani,
The Seeds,
Symarip,
Slick Rick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
K-Klass,
Black Flag,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
Liliput,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doobie Brothers,
FM Einheit,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Ultra Naté,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter and Kerry,
JFA,
Wasted Youth,
Eurythmics,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.