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 Papua New Guinea and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Black Sheep to the rap 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Panda Bear,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare,
Camberwell Now,
The Young Rascals,
Bizarre Inc.,
Can,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Dolphy,
Al Stewart,
Vladislav Delay,
Lower 48,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Rapeman,
Grey Daturas,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dual Sessions,
Swans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Accadde A,
Roxette,
Ronan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joyce Sims,
The Dave Clark Five,
Urselle,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scan 7,
Cluster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Radiohead,
Junior Murvin,
Rekid,
Echospace,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeru the Damaja,
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Anakelly,
The Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ludus,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Absolute Body Control,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Davy DMX,
Pylon,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.