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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 Lightning Bolt to the jazz 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
ABC,
Ituana,
Country Teasers,
Khruangbin,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon,
K-Klass,
The Fugs,
The Gories,
Iggy Pop,
Fat Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Pere Ubu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Negative Approach,
Banda Bassotti,
Camberwell Now,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
Brothers Johnson,
Joyce Sims,
Trumans Water,
48th St. Collective,
Accadde A,
The Angels of Light,
Fad Gadget,
JFA,
Mad Mike,
Patti Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Colin Newman,
Dual Sessions,
Andrew Hill,
The Birthday Party,
Brand Nubian,
Blake Baxter,
Vainqueur,
Eddi Front,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fatback Band,
The Toasters,
The American Breed,
Zapp,
Jeru the Damaja,
China Crisis,
the Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Drexciya,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Radiohead,
Erykah Badu,
Deakin,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.