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 Bhutan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Minnie Riperton to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Supertramp,
The Black Dice,
Steve Hackett,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Germs,
Saccharine Trust,
Radio Birdman,
FM Einheit,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Grass Roots,
Moebius,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Moon,
Iggy Pop,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
ABC,
X-101,
Suburban Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Suicide,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Au Pairs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Names,
Scientists,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin,
Minor Threat,
June of 44,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Holt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jacob Miller,
Oblivians,
Peter and Kerry,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Japan,
The Count Five,
David Axelrod,
the Association,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Television Personalities,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blake Baxter,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.