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 the UAE and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tommy Roe to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camberwell Now,
Anakelly,
Adolescents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scratch Acid,
The Young Rascals,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
Frankie Knuckles,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
Barry Ungar,
These Immortal Souls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Five Americans,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
The Martian,
Mission of Burma,
The Names,
Lakeside,
Michelle Simonal,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Agent Orange,
Royal Trux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Neon Judgement,
The Raincoats,
The Fortunes,
Cameo,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
Masters at Work,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barrington Levy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-102,
Fela Kuti,
The Gap Band,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
Yaz,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.