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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 David Bowie 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 Isaac Hayes to the grunge 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage 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?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra,
David Axelrod,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scientists,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Deepchord,
Peter and Kerry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Henry Cow,
Neu!,
Severed Heads,
Moss Icon,
Connie Case,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
Funky Four + One,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Ken Boothe,
Idris Muhammad,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
Goldenarms,
Panda Bear,
Drexciya,
Unrelated Segments,
cv313,
Matthew Bourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Absolute Body Control,
kango's stein massive,
Theoretical Girls,
Radio Birdman,
David McCallum,
Wings,
Jeff Lynne,
Mad Mike,
Pantytec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fad Gadget,
Massinfluence,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
Nico,
Nas,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalo Schifrin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Walker Brothers,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.