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 Solomon Islands and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Funky Four + One to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Tubeway Army,
Easy Going,
Guru Guru,
Lower 48,
Whodini,
Yaz,
Piero Umiliani,
Lindisfarne,
Dead Boys,
Cameo,
Warren Ellis,
Radio Birdman,
Patti Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wally Richardson,
Subhumans,
The Pretty Things,
Alison Limerick,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Liliput,
LL Cool J,
The Knickerbockers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stiv Bators,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Technova,
Hasil Adkins,
Matthew Halsall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The New Christs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Trojans,
The Pop Group,
Joensuu 1685,
The Techniques,
Byron Stingily,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
Siglo XX,
Buzzcocks,
10cc,
Spoonie Gee,
Terry Callier,
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.