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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Soft Cell to the jazz 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Boredoms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wire,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Kerri Chandler,
The Durutti Column,
The Techniques,
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
Roxette,
Faraquet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
The Fall,
Con Funk Shun,
Amazonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Essential Logic,
Swans,
Qualms,
Altered Images,
Rakim,
Drexciya,
Urselle,
The Move,
Nick Fraelich,
Tears for Fears,
Black Flag,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mars,
CMW,
Graham Central Station,
Babytalk,
Nils Olav,
Godley & Creme,
Warsaw,
The Black Dice,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Trojans,
Lou Christie,
Brass Construction,
Mark Hollis,
Warren Ellis,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
Supertramp,
Mr. Review,
Soul II Soul,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.