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 Macedonia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Average White Band,
The Star Department,
Joy Division,
UT,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
Silicon Teens,
The New Christs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Livin' Joy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Henry Cow,
Sugar Minott,
Lindisfarne,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Joey Negro,
AZ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Au Pairs,
Godley & Creme,
Letta Mbulu,
The Associates,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Index,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
Masters at Work,
Arab on Radar,
La Düsseldorf,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
Subhumans,
Archie Shepp,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Bush Tetras,
Whodini,
Soul II Soul,
Judy Mowatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
The Smoke,
Vladislav Delay,
Warsaw,
Vainqueur,
Kenny Larkin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.