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 Guinea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pole to the techno 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
Ludus,
R.M.O.,
Alison Limerick,
Radiohead,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Star Department,
Gabor Szabo,
Gichy Dan,
Yaz,
Crash Course in Science,
This Heat,
Talk Talk,
Rod Modell,
Sound Behaviour,
New Order,
Derrick May,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
The Gun Club,
Robert Görl,
Prince Buster,
Agent Orange,
Faust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Brothers Johnson,
Camouflage,
the Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
New York Dolls,
Section 25,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
Deadbeat,
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
The Golliwogs,
Drive Like Jehu,
UT,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
Juan Atkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bob Dylan,
The Names,
Harpers Bizarre,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Young Marble Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Boredoms,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.