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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the crunk 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
Joyce Sims,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rotary Connection,
The Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Susan Cadogan,
the Association,
Skriet,
48th St. Collective,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Motorama,
Aaron Thompson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultra Naté,
Excepter,
kango's stein massive,
LL Cool J,
The Gap Band,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
Scratch Acid,
Fatback Band,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Marc Almond,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike,
Pantytec,
Arab on Radar,
The Cure,
Gang of Four,
Funky Four + One,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
John Holt,
Desert Stars,
The Zeros,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Funkadelic,
Gong,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Reuben Wilson,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.