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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Chris Corsano,
Negative Approach,
The Cowsills,
Rekid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
8 Eyed Spy,
PIL,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Organ,
Sound Behaviour,
The Doobie Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Iggy Pop,
Minor Threat,
Altered Images,
Fatback Band,
The Smiths,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Junior Murvin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Steve Hackett,
Public Enemy,
Pole,
Terrestrial Tones,
June of 44,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warsaw,
Bobby Womack,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siglo XX,
Jacob Miller,
The Cramps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.