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 Portugal and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the electroclash 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Siglo XX,
Neu!,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang of Four,
Lungfish,
The Happenings,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick May,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker,
The Fire Engines,
Maurizio,
Pantytec,
The Standells,
E-Dancer,
Sandy B,
Chrome,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Blancmange,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Rotary Connection,
Albert Ayler,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Pop Group,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fugs,
Brothers Johnson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Youth Brigade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bronski Beat,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Boz Scaggs,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
Alice Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Wells,
Morten Harket,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stetsasonic,
Simply Red,
The Mojo Men,
Mission of Burma,
Minutemen,
Gichy Dan,
Sex Pistols,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blossom Toes,
Tom Boy,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Steve Hackett,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.