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 Turkmenistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Niagra to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Durutti Column,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Albert Ayler,
Colin Newman,
Sound Behaviour,
The Evens,
Junior Murvin,
The Martian,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rapeman,
Scan 7,
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Letta Mbulu,
Tubeway Army,
Marine Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Silicon Teens,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
The Raincoats,
B.T. Express,
Masters at Work,
Bad Manners,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Pylon,
The Names,
Soulsonic Force,
Deakin,
Oneida,
the Sonics,
June of 44,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Golliwogs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Quantec,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slits,
Tres Demented,
CMW,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
UT,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.