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 Korea North and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Jacques Brel to the grime 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Symarip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris & Cosey,
Ituana,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Connie Case,
Public Image Ltd.,
Niagra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Standells,
Roger Hodgson,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Outsiders,
Blake Baxter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick Morgan,
Dual Sessions,
The Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Warsaw,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Trumans Water,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
Talk Talk,
Section 25,
The Residents,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
The Motions,
Quantec,
Yusef Lateef,
Archie Shepp,
The Smoke,
Negative Approach,
Oblivians,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.