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 Romania and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Clear Light to the crunk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Al Stewart,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lee Hazlewood,
Los Fastidios,
The Count Five,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Smooth,
The Star Department,
Jimmy McGriff,
Archie Shepp,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Young Marble Giants,
Donny Hathaway,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Tremeloes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick Morgan,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt,
Charles Mingus,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Clear Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
Mr. Review,
The Index,
Gabor Szabo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mantronix,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul Sonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Finger,
Deakin,
Joensuu 1685,
Roxy Music,
Liliput,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.