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 Mauritius and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Khruangbin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Donald Byrd,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smiths,
Schoolly D,
Audionom,
The Saints,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Eddi Front,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Blues Magoos,
FM Einheit,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers,
Japan,
Tubeway Army,
Circle Jerks,
Monks,
Arthur Verocai,
Porter Ricks,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Lindisfarne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Andrew Hill,
Graham Central Station,
Toni Rubio,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
The New Christs,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
Junior Murvin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Cale,
The Pop Group,
In Retrospect,
The Residents,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.