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 Solomon Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Bush Tetras to the funk 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Gang Green,
Urselle,
Index,
The Selecter,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ten City,
Infiniti,
Y Pants,
Donny Hathaway,
Moby Grape,
Schoolly D,
Blake Baxter,
Scientists,
The New Christs,
Loose Ends,
Joey Negro,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Durutti Column,
Minutemen,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Wells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Albert Ayler,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-102,
Alphaville,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Intrusion,
Model 500,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Move,
Ultravox,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tim Buckley,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Alison Limerick,
The Residents,
Matthew Bourne,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
The Mojo Men,
Eli Mardock,
The Knickerbockers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Buckinghams,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brothers Johnson,
Malaria!,
Reagan Youth,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.