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 St Lucia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the funk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Lakeside,
Cluster,
The Smiths,
Tommy Roe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Royal Trux,
Fad Gadget,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shoche,
Hashim,
Kenny Larkin,
Index,
Supertramp,
Dawn Penn,
Chris Corsano,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
Interpol,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
Joyce Sims,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Von Mondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Marmalade,
Ten City,
Alison Limerick,
Pantaleimon,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
The Monochrome Set,
The Beau Brummels,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kurtis Blow,
Scrapy,
The Evens,
Das Ding,
Pole,
Eddi Front,
DJ Style,
The Selecter,
The Gories,
Dual Sessions,
Cal Tjader,
Basic Channel,
Godley & Creme,
Marine Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Thompson Twins,
Fluxion,
PIL,
The Black Dice,
Arab on Radar,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.