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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 June of 44 to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
The Flesh Eaters,
a-ha,
The Tremeloes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swell Maps,
Jacob Miller,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Charles Mingus,
Magma,
The Busters,
The Smiths,
Danielle Patucci,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Soft Cell,
Kurtis Blow,
Con Funk Shun,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blake Baxter,
The Index,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cure,
Warsaw,
John Cale,
The Monks,
The Fall,
Joey Negro,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
Spandau Ballet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
Bill Wells,
Magazine,
Morten Harket,
Arcadia,
Little Man,
Ronan,
Massinfluence,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül,
The Black Dice,
Mo-Dettes,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deepchord,
Banda Bassotti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
Scrapy,
Jeff Lynne,
Sällskapet,
Bauhaus,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.