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 Nicaragua and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 the Bar-Kays to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Babytalk,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Monks,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cowsills,
Blossom Toes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Outsiders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Connie Case,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Seeds,
The Index,
Ossler,
The Real Kids,
Hashim,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Moon,
Talk Talk,
Dead Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
The Cure,
Arcadia,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hoover,
D'Angelo,
Susan Cadogan,
Lightning Bolt,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Marine Girls,
ABBA,
Scientists,
The Residents,
The Fuzztones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Freddie Wadling,
B.T. Express,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Evens,
Cheater Slicks,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Accadde A,
Ten City,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.