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 Congo and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
The Pop Group,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Tres Demented,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Flash Fearless,
Severed Heads,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sällskapet,
Toni Rubio,
The Associates,
Neu!,
Ken Boothe,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Derrick Morgan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Knickerbockers,
X-Ray Spex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Divine Comedy,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
Infiniti,
Reuben Wilson,
Model 500,
Fear,
The Dead C,
Franke,
Bobby Byrd,
Colin Newman,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
Smog,
Fad Gadget,
the Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hardrive,
Groovy Waters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Angels of Light,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Leonard Cohen,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.