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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 The Standells to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Adolescents,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
The Toasters,
Fat Boys,
Japan,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arcadia,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Green,
D'Angelo,
The Leaves,
The Wake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ronan,
Mars,
The Monochrome Set,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wally Richardson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Ludus,
Stetsasonic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Reed,
The Divine Comedy,
Howard Jones,
Carl Craig,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
Excepter,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Absolute Body Control,
Vladislav Delay,
Max Romeo,
The Barracudas,
The Motions,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Malaria!,
Lightning Bolt,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Derrick Morgan,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.