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 Israel and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Erykah Badu 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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Moleskins,
Dawn Penn,
Qualms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aloha Tigers,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Almond,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minor Threat,
New York Dolls,
Ossler,
Thee Headcoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
MDC,
The Five Americans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lower 48,
Isaac Hayes,
Cheater Slicks,
Skriet,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Blake Baxter,
Dual Sessions,
The American Breed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Wake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Colin Newman,
Judy Mowatt,
Funky Four + One,
Camouflage,
Popol Vuh,
Scion,
Maurizio,
Eric Copeland,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deakin,
X-101,
Gang Starr,
Eli Mardock,
Roxy Music,
Joe Smooth,
Make Up,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
the Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.