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 Palau and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme,
Byron Stingily,
D'Angelo,
Ultra Naté,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Hill,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ken Boothe,
Franke,
The Angels of Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aloha Tigers,
Harry Pussy,
Davy DMX,
Bootsy Collins,
Marine Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Erasure,
Accadde A,
Alton Ellis,
Simply Red,
Ronan,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Los Fastidios,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Young Marble Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps,
Aswad,
Technova,
Steve Hackett,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Near,
Arcadia,
Radio Birdman,
The Searchers,
F. McDonald,
Stockholm Monsters,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Anakelly,
The Leaves,
Soul II Soul,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
Piero Umiliani,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nils Olav,
Metal Thangz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nik Kershaw,
CMW,
Lindisfarne,
Delta 5,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.