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 South Africa and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grime 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Chris Corsano,
The Music Machine,
Aural Exciters,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
The J.B.'s,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minutemen,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-Ray Spex,
Youth Brigade,
Scrapy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Warren Ellis,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Sherman,
Subhumans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Section 25,
Todd Rundgren,
Harmonia,
The Index,
Thee Headcoats,
Amon Düül II,
Unrelated Segments,
Skarface,
Mo-Dettes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Minnie Riperton,
The American Breed,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alice Coltrane,
Talk Talk,
The Blues Magoos,
Bronski Beat,
Bush Tetras,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Dual Sessions,
Amon Düül,
China Crisis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.