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 Houston.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sex Pistols to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
The Durutti Column,
Lyres,
David McCallum,
Ultravox,
Monolake,
Inner City,
The Misunderstood,
Funkadelic,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Litter,
Oneida,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
Metal Thangz,
Eve St. Jones,
Fugazi,
The Gories,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
The Mojo Men,
Pere Ubu,
Con Funk Shun,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
Half Japanese,
Smog,
Dave Gahan,
Spandau Ballet,
Zapp,
Tommy Roe,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang On A Can,
The Walker Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Chrome,
The Vogues,
Gang of Four,
Intrusion,
Dark Day,
Moss Icon,
FM Einheit,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.