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 Nicaragua and from New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Soul II Soul to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Severed Heads,
Hasil Adkins,
Average White Band,
Moebius,
Parry Music,
Mad Mike,
Soulsonic Force,
Theoretical Girls,
Audionom,
Black Moon,
The Names,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Vainqueur,
Minutemen,
Roxette,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Henry Cow,
Reagan Youth,
Clear Light,
The Tremeloes,
D'Angelo,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Iggy Pop,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
Mandrill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
Pagans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Au Pairs,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultravox,
Supertramp,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Don Cherry,
Lindisfarne,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.