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 Lebanon and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 New Order to the rap 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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Alton Ellis,
Joyce Sims,
Franke,
Amazonics,
Eddi Front,
The Move,
Minny Pops,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monks,
A Certain Ratio,
Fear,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gories,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
The Moleskins,
Idris Muhammad,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
Echospace,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unrelated Segments,
The Martian,
Schoolly D,
Little Man,
R.M.O.,
Kurtis Blow,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Mr. Review,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Golliwogs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Beau Brummels,
Morten Harket,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Dead C,
Aswad,
Al Stewart,
The Red Krayola,
Brick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sugar Minott,
Kerri Chandler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.