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 Peru and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nas to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Masters at Work,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
Peter & Gordon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barrington Levy,
Patti Smith,
Scion,
cv313,
the Association,
Country Teasers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ten City,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Young Rascals,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Terry,
Q65,
Derrick Morgan,
Guru Guru,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slits,
Aswad,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
Clear Light,
X-102,
Terry Callier,
The Gories,
The Black Dice,
Peter and Kerry,
Franke,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rites of Spring,
Grauzone,
the Normal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
Nils Olav,
Das Ding,
The Searchers,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Rakim,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.