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 Armenia and from London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 The Moody Blues to the funk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Tres Demented,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Pole,
Avey Tare,
The Raincoats,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
the Normal,
Neu!,
Can,
Fad Gadget,
Max Romeo,
Dead Boys,
Sällskapet,
Alison Limerick,
Black Bananas,
Cal Tjader,
Deakin,
Minutemen,
Joe Finger,
Television Personalities,
Lungfish,
Gong,
Country Teasers,
Rapeman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Trojans,
The Cowsills,
Von Mondo,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Supertramp,
The Smiths,
Pylon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Dark Day,
Peter & Gordon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Anakelly,
The Saints,
Laurel Aitken,
Livin' Joy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Silicon Teens,
Swans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
La Düsseldorf,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.