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 East Timor and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the techno 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Terrestrial Tones,
Carl Craig,
Moby Grape,
Moss Icon,
The Monochrome Set,
Stiv Bators,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
Morten Harket,
Crash Course in Science,
Chris Corsano,
Junior Murvin,
Colin Newman,
Altered Images,
Michelle Simonal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Duran Duran,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
B.T. Express,
The Count Five,
Sight & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Byron Stingily,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The United States of America,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Grey Daturas,
Excepter,
The Fortunes,
Joe Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Halsall,
Marmalade,
Sparks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Slackers,
Graham Central Station,
Funkadelic,
The Zeros,
Pulsallama,
Vladislav Delay,
10cc,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crooked Eye,
Quantec,
FM Einheit,
Von Mondo,
Half Japanese,
Lower 48,
Sex Pistols,
Radiohead,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.