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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pulsallama to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül,
Lucky Dragons,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
Cameo,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
New Order,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Smog,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
Kenny Larkin,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
the Association,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
The Blackbyrds,
Country Teasers,
Fear,
Susan Cadogan,
Average White Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crime,
Juan Atkins,
Television,
Black Pus,
Roger Hodgson,
Fad Gadget,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harmonia,
Pole,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
Accadde A,
Audionom,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.