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 East Timor and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
Echospace,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Osbourne,
Silicon Teens,
The Residents,
Peter and Kerry,
Moebius,
Bronski Beat,
B.T. Express,
The American Breed,
Guru Guru,
Nik Kershaw,
Hashim,
Roy Ayers,
Underground Resistance,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun Ra,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
The Associates,
K-Klass,
Little Man,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
The Mummies,
Soul II Soul,
Jacob Miller,
Pantytec,
JFA,
Steve Hackett,
Flash Fearless,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
X-102,
Tim Buckley,
Roger Hodgson,
Porter Ricks,
Funky Four + One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fortunes,
Livin' Joy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sight & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Con Funk Shun,
a-ha,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.