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 Indonesia and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ten City to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Associates,
Quando Quango,
Don Cherry,
Terry Callier,
UT,
Ice-T,
Soft Machine,
The Names,
Unwound,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
Ultravox,
Bad Manners,
John Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
Barry Ungar,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blancmange,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang of Four,
Dead Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Shuggie Otis,
The Trojans,
Robert Görl,
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Residents,
Parry Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Lynne,
Excepter,
Zero Boys,
Nas,
Peter & Gordon,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Starr,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
Harry Pussy,
X-102,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.