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 Maldives and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barbara Tucker to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
Cameo,
Sight & Sound,
Symarip,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics,
Grey Daturas,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
Unrelated Segments,
Junior Murvin,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
David Axelrod,
New Order,
Absolute Body Control,
Ohio Players,
Susan Cadogan,
Fear,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
The Smoke,
Yazoo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The J.B.'s,
Ultimate Spinach,
UT,
Crooked Eye,
Michelle Simonal,
Kurtis Blow,
Dennis Brown,
Soulsonic Force,
Lakeside,
The Barracudas,
Althea and Donna,
X-102,
Black Moon,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
The Moody Blues,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Finger,
Black Pus,
Wally Richardson,
The Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Excepter,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.