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 Thailand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the jazz 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Outsiders,
The New Christs,
the Association,
The Mojo Men,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeff Lynne,
Circle Jerks,
Janne Schatter,
Blancmange,
Young Marble Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Icehouse,
Jerry's Kids,
Nico,
Aural Exciters,
Moss Icon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Prince Buster,
Duran Duran,
CMW,
Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Rekid,
Harmonia,
Todd Terry,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swell Maps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yusef Lateef,
Barry Ungar,
The Golliwogs,
Ice-T,
B.T. Express,
Eddi Front,
Bill Near,
Whodini,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
The Blackbyrds,
The Young Rascals,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
T.S.O.L.,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Joy Division,
Khruangbin,
Sexual Harrassment,
The American Breed,
Junior Murvin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kas Product,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.