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 Slovakia and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Neil Young to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
X-102,
Spandau Ballet,
Cal Tjader,
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
DNA,
Dual Sessions,
Fugazi,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Lynne,
Lucky Dragons,
Mandrill,
Boredoms,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
Duran Duran,
Mission of Burma,
AZ,
the Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
UT,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Los Fastidios,
Boz Scaggs,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tres Demented,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pagans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drexciya,
Supertramp,
The Cowsills,
The Sonics,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
K-Klass,
Lou Christie,
Masters at Work,
The Misunderstood,
The Beau Brummels,
The Durutti Column,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Niagra,
Brass Construction,
Nick Fraelich,
Index,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
Danielle Patucci,
the Bar-Kays,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Rundgren,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.