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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terry Callier to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Marine Girls,
Ohio Players,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reuben Wilson,
Ten City,
Aswad,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bluetip,
The Blues Magoos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The Tremeloes,
Mandrill,
Mad Mike,
Gregory Isaacs,
David McCallum,
Urselle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Piero Umiliani,
The Knickerbockers,
New York Dolls,
The Fugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
LL Cool J,
Deepchord,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pantytec,
Youth Brigade,
Little Man,
EPMD,
Stetsasonic,
La Düsseldorf,
Kayak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Audionom,
Newcleus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Qualms,
Black Bananas,
Zero Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Ludus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sällskapet,
MC5,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Funky Four + One,
The Fuzztones,
Agent Orange,
Lou Christie,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Letta Mbulu,
Fear,
Ituana,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.