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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The New Christs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul II Soul,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
New Order,
Popol Vuh,
Franke,
Arthur Verocai,
Mission of Burma,
Don Cherry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Blake Baxter,
X-101,
World's Most,
Soft Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Mills,
Accadde A,
PIL,
OOIOO,
Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rakim,
Chrome,
Kayak,
Leonard Cohen,
Arcadia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joey Negro,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Au Pairs,
The Modern Lovers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eden Ahbez,
JFA,
Banda Bassotti,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.