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 Vanuatu and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Terry Callier to the funk 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Fela Kuti,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
AZ,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Juan Atkins,
The Doors,
Rotary Connection,
The Slackers,
X-102,
Average White Band,
Excepter,
Graham Central Station,
Joyce Sims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Infiniti,
Suburban Knight,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Evens,
Althea and Donna,
DJ Sneak,
Josef K,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Panda Bear,
Maleditus Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nico,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pere Ubu,
Blake Baxter,
Connie Case,
Goldenarms,
Magma,
Don Cherry,
DNA,
Eric Copeland,
Susan Cadogan,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
The Stooges,
UT,
Joensuu 1685,
Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
Neil Young,
The Angels of Light,
Mars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Real Kids,
Loose Ends,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Red Krayola,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.