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 Mali and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grunge 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Simply Red,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Moon,
Quadrant,
Shoche,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Metal Thangz,
The American Breed,
Tres Demented,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amazonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crash Course in Science,
The Trojans,
The Raincoats,
Tubeway Army,
Intrusion,
Skriet,
Pylon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scion,
The New Christs,
Drexciya,
La Düsseldorf,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
The Count Five,
Clear Light,
Mars,
The United States of America,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare,
Sight & Sound,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joyce Sims,
Letta Mbulu,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
the Bar-Kays,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Motions,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.