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 Macedonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 In Retrospect to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
Mad Mike,
Rekid,
Erykah Badu,
Television,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Offenders,
Black Bananas,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fluxion,
Donny Hathaway,
Siglo XX,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
The Move,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Albert Ayler,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Litter,
Pere Ubu,
Bad Manners,
Eli Mardock,
The Wake,
The Fuzztones,
Glenn Branca,
DNA,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
Sparks,
Rapeman,
Marmalade,
The Fire Engines,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Danielle Patucci,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.