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 Indonesia and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Holt to the punk 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Fraelich,
June Days,
B.T. Express,
The Skatalites,
Mandrill,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Reagan Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Technova,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Thompson Twins,
Wings,
Intrusion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tomorrow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra,
The Saints,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Order,
Isaac Hayes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Soft Cell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Niagra,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Suburban Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Fugazi,
KRS-One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Simply Red,
Visage,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.