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 Solomon Islands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Nico to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Franke,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
ABBA,
Surgeon,
Vainqueur,
Urselle,
The Human League,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monks,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boz Scaggs,
Minutemen,
Archie Shepp,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
Rekid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines,
Flash Fearless,
Aloha Tigers,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
The Moody Blues,
The New Christs,
Idris Muhammad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
AZ,
The Mojo Men,
Camouflage,
Jacques Brel,
Gregory Isaacs,
D'Angelo,
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Morten Harket,
Groovy Waters,
Moby Grape,
Pulsallama,
The Fugs,
Steve Hackett,
Kayak,
Absolute Body Control,
The Raincoats,
Whodini,
Pantaleimon,
Television Personalities,
Black Bananas,
The Evens,
Panda Bear,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.