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 Antigua and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 the Bar-Kays to the funk 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Nirvana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echospace,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian,
Brick,
Fugazi,
The Five Americans,
Moby Grape,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
Leonard Cohen,
Soulsonic Force,
Nils Olav,
The Mojo Men,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Germs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Supertramp,
Rosa Yemen,
Television Personalities,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
The Saints,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Groovy Waters,
Shuggie Otis,
10cc,
Sight & Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brass Construction,
Radio Birdman,
World's Most,
Fear,
Alice Coltrane,
The Techniques,
Dual Sessions,
The Barracudas,
Reuben Wilson,
48th St. Collective,
Jawbox,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Normal,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
the Association,
DNA,
Los Fastidios,
Donald Byrd,
Ludus,
Circle Jerks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.