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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
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 mellotron 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 Kaleidoscope to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
The Trojans,
Sällskapet,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
the Soft Cell,
Pere Ubu,
Joe Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Moon,
Hot Snakes,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
The Move,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fire Engines,
cv313,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
Eve St. Jones,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash,
Q65,
Amazonics,
Sandy B,
Panda Bear,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Durutti Column,
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
Accadde A,
Soft Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
Cheater Slicks,
La Düsseldorf,
Gastr Del Sol,
Magma,
Vladislav Delay,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Görl,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Wells,
Grey Daturas,
Schoolly D,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
AZ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.