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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Astoria.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Starr,
Procol Harum,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Make Up,
The Doors,
Ponytail,
Dark Day,
The Happenings,
Monolake,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Cale,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
Kaleidoscope,
The Saints,
EPMD,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Minor Threat,
Subhumans,
Yellowson,
Stetsasonic,
Rapeman,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
Moebius,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
Letta Mbulu,
Groovy Waters,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Bourne,
The Buckinghams,
Schoolly D,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Beau Brummels,
Tubeway Army,
L. Decosne,
The Cure,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Suburban Knight,
Sandy B,
The Gap Band,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox,
Skriet,
The Standells,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Five Americans,
The Moody Blues,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Urselle,
The Star Department,
Echospace,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.