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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Marc Almond to the rap 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
The Skatalites,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Shoche,
Freddie Wadling,
Marmalade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Model 500,
The Wake,
Banda Bassotti,
Technova,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
The Kinks,
The Mummies,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Au Pairs,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
The Misunderstood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Görl,
Skarface,
L. Decosne,
Sugar Minott,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Infiniti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Subhumans,
Pantytec,
Scratch Acid,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soft Machine,
Roxy Music,
DJ Sneak,
Kerri Chandler,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Amazonics,
MC5,
Grey Daturas,
Derrick May,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gap Band,
Thompson Twins,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.