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 Nauru and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Howard Jones to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
U.S. Maple,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
The Birthday Party,
Yusef Lateef,
Inner City,
Ice-T,
Lightning Bolt,
The Real Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Detroit Cobras,
Morten Harket,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
Minnie Riperton,
Skaos,
The Red Krayola,
Can,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
China Crisis,
Fatback Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Reed,
Lower 48,
Funky Four + One,
The Kinks,
Moss Icon,
Surgeon,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Television,
Massinfluence,
The Skatalites,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Eating Sloth,
T. Rex,
Public Enemy,
Lucky Dragons,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flamin' Groovies,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wasted Youth,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.