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 Japan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans 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?
Flash Fearless,
Outsiders,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
New York Dolls,
The Skatalites,
Amazonics,
Babytalk,
Lindisfarne,
The Mojo Men,
Mantronix,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
Marc Almond,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Kinks,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Foxx,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Standells,
Sällskapet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Porter Ricks,
The Modern Lovers,
Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
Brass Construction,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The J.B.'s,
The Cosmic Jokers,
June of 44,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.