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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neon Judgement 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minnie Riperton,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
The Velvet Underground,
Franke,
Ludus,
Bush Tetras,
Swans,
Cal Tjader,
Altered Images,
Ultra Naté,
Al Stewart,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Glenn Branca,
Slave,
Delon & Dalcan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Deakin,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Womack,
Cameo,
Matthew Halsall,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
Shuggie Otis,
Brand Nubian,
Patti Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Interpol,
the Human League,
David Bowie,
Charles Mingus,
Unrelated Segments,
Judy Mowatt,
Model 500,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.