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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Underground Resistance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Dolphy,
E-Dancer,
June Days,
Japan,
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Sandy B,
Absolute Body Control,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Rufus Thomas,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dark Day,
Barrington Levy,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Spandau Ballet,
New Age Steppers,
Basic Channel,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
The Victims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Patti Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eve St. Jones,
Altered Images,
X-102,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fela Kuti,
kango's stein massive,
Erykah Badu,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hashim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
The Monks,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
R.M.O.,
The Divine Comedy,
Max Romeo,
K-Klass,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.