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 Uruguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kenny Larkin to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Judy Mowatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Al Stewart,
Boz Scaggs,
Fugazi,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
Gabor Szabo,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Banda Bassotti,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Sight & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fuzztones,
The Fortunes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Count Five,
Adolescents,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
Buzzcocks,
The Mojo Men,
Y Pants,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Searchers,
CMW,
Neil Young,
Flash Fearless,
The Music Machine,
Popol Vuh,
The Velvet Underground,
John Holt,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Q and Not U,
The Gap Band,
Deakin,
Von Mondo,
Carl Craig,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Tremeloes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Neon Judgement,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
Tres Demented,
The Five Americans,
Funkadelic,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.