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 Poland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 The Pop Group to the dance 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Toni Rubio,
The Golliwogs,
Kaleidoscope,
Symarip,
The Smiths,
Cal Tjader,
Interpol,
Bronski Beat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
Ossler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shuggie Otis,
Anakelly,
Eurythmics,
Camouflage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
Theoretical Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cymande,
The Invisible,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fad Gadget,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Talk Talk,
Popol Vuh,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gories,
Arcadia,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons,
Stetsasonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T.S.O.L.,
Malaria!,
Underground Resistance,
Avey Tare,
The Dirtbombs,
Pagans,
The Grass Roots,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
Oneida,
Deadbeat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.