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 Peru and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Lower 48 to the disco 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Flipper,
Lower 48,
Fela Kuti,
DNA,
Joey Negro,
Aural Exciters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Seeds,
Echospace,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ornette Coleman,
Aloha Tigers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Heaven 17,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
Main Source,
The Selecter,
Todd Terry,
Visage,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Kenny Larkin,
Flash Fearless,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
The Toasters,
Unrelated Segments,
Toni Rubio,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
The Dead C,
the Germs,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
Hoover,
MC5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Supertramp,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.