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 Somalia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the jazz 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
kango's stein massive,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Rekid,
Johnny Clarke,
A Certain Ratio,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pretty Things,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
Crime,
The Count Five,
Cymande,
Sixth Finger,
Quadrant,
Dave Gahan,
The Young Rascals,
Urselle,
The Slackers,
Derrick Morgan,
Metal Thangz,
Peter & Gordon,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Danielle Patucci,
Essential Logic,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
Juan Atkins,
Zero Boys,
B.T. Express,
Barclay James Harvest,
Talk Talk,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Modern Lovers,
Television Personalities,
Index,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
cv313,
Nils Olav,
Pantytec,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
K-Klass,
The Searchers,
The United States of America,
Brand Nubian,
Youth Brigade,
Darondo,
Henry Cow,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.