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 Bahrain and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers,
Carl Craig,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Machine,
Khruangbin,
Don Cherry,
Blossom Toes,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
Ponytail,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Graham Central Station,
Unwound,
Erykah Badu,
The Slackers,
Harmonia,
Ultra Naté,
Delta 5,
Jeff Lynne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
H. Thieme,
Jawbox,
Peter and Kerry,
the Germs,
Derrick May,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mad Mike,
Nick Fraelich,
Neu!,
Sixth Finger,
Cal Tjader,
L. Decosne,
Suicide,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Toasters,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Slits,
Fad Gadget,
The Victims,
Joy Division,
Y Pants,
The Motions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Cybotron,
MDC,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.