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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Victims to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mummies,
The Neon Judgement,
Make Up,
Eddi Front,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Five Americans,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Move,
cv313,
Fela Kuti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
The Slits,
Dead Boys,
The Black Dice,
The Leaves,
Rod Modell,
MDC,
10cc,
Bad Manners,
Interpol,
The Dead C,
New Order,
The Cramps,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
Minor Threat,
Slave,
Robert Wyatt,
Monolake,
Wire,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tom Boy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ten City,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Clarke,
Lyres,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pylon,
Urselle,
The Wake,
ABC,
Faraquet,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
Pole,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Swans,
the Association,
Al Stewart,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.