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 Finland and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dead C to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Crooked Eye,
The Zeros,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Symarip,
The Moody Blues,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
Duran Duran,
Talk Talk,
The American Breed,
Funkadelic,
David McCallum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
Soulsonic Force,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
Bob Dylan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Carl Craig,
Franke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rapeman,
Dawn Penn,
Glambeats Corp.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skriet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Con Funk Shun,
Susan Cadogan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Henry Cow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Trumans Water,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soft Machine,
Babytalk,
Suburban Knight,
DNA,
The Gories,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eurythmics,
New Age Steppers,
The Seeds,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Roger Hodgson,
Ituana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moss Icon,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.