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 Moldova and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Lyres,
Fluxion,
K-Klass,
Kayak,
Reuben Wilson,
The Selecter,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
KRS-One,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bluetip,
Donald Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Lynne,
R.M.O.,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine,
Country Teasers,
The Fall,
The Blackbyrds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Newcleus,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
Desert Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Amazonics,
David McCallum,
Ice-T,
A Certain Ratio,
Stiv Bators,
L. Decosne,
The Fugs,
Marvin Gaye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
Circle Jerks,
Yellowson,
Yazoo,
Q65,
Gang Green,
Von Mondo,
Zapp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
Ossler,
Index,
The Moody Blues,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.