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 Afghanistan and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 A Certain Ratio to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Skriet,
Section 25,
Wire,
FM Einheit,
Popol Vuh,
Animal Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Can,
The Birthday Party,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Patti Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Fluxion,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Average White Band,
The United States of America,
Brass Construction,
Marvin Gaye,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Panda Bear,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fear,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
MC5,
Yellowson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ornette Coleman,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nico,
Piero Umiliani,
E-Dancer,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tomorrow,
Todd Rundgren,
Bob Dylan,
The Grass Roots,
Guru Guru,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Hill,
Lucky Dragons,
Gabor Szabo,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.