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 Jamaica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Ronan to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson 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?
David McCallum,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fall,
the Bar-Kays,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxette,
The Slackers,
Eli Mardock,
Adolescents,
cv313,
Eric Copeland,
DNA,
Eurythmics,
Alton Ellis,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lyres,
The Knickerbockers,
Roy Ayers,
Cymande,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
Ohio Players,
The Trojans,
Glenn Branca,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Bluetip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
EPMD,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
The Fire Engines,
ABC,
Danielle Patucci,
Nico,
The Young Rascals,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Colin Newman,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
The Victims,
The Index,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.