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 Australia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Amazonics to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cheater Slicks,
DNA,
Fluxion,
Sun Ra,
Das Ding,
Bill Wells,
Tom Boy,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brothers Johnson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Shuggie Otis,
World's Most,
The Mummies,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fugazi,
Camberwell Now,
Lungfish,
Mad Mike,
Gabor Szabo,
F. McDonald,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
Crash Course in Science,
Absolute Body Control,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
Erykah Badu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Supertramp,
Lucky Dragons,
The Vogues,
Section 25,
Blake Baxter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brass Construction,
Funky Four + One,
Saccharine Trust,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Star Department,
UT,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mission of Burma,
Unwound,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gladiators,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.