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 Netherlands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Starr,
Siglo XX,
Sandy B,
Ponytail,
Funkadelic,
Mr. Review,
Electric Prunes,
Lower 48,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Victims,
Stiv Bators,
Bang On A Can,
Piero Umiliani,
The Knickerbockers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Aswad,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Henry Cow,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Janne Schatter,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
The Happenings,
The Litter,
Morten Harket,
The United States of America,
The Cramps,
The Index,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
K-Klass,
Hoover,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
T. Rex,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
Visage,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pere Ubu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New York Dolls,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.