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 Jordan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Y Pants to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
John Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rosa Yemen,
L. Decosne,
Radiohead,
Skaos,
June of 44,
Scion,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lower 48,
The Residents,
a-ha,
Inner City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
Harry Pussy,
Circle Jerks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Anakelly,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hashim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pere Ubu,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Marmalade,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Tubeway Army,
Siglo XX,
In Retrospect,
Lungfish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Slave,
Tim Buckley,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
The Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Certain Ratio,
Royal Trux,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.