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 Afghanistan and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Walker Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
kango's stein massive,
the Bar-Kays,
Supertramp,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Litter,
Godley & Creme,
Gong,
K-Klass,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tubeway Army,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eddi Front,
Brass Construction,
The Raincoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dave Gahan,
Flipper,
The Birthday Party,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Yazoo,
Bang On A Can,
Terry Callier,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacques Brel,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
The Seeds,
B.T. Express,
Junior Murvin,
Yaz,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
Archie Shepp,
Arab on Radar,
The American Breed,
Mars,
Fatback Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25,
Sound Behaviour,
Pussy Galore,
Wings,
The Pretty Things,
Sugar Minott,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.