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 Oman and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Metal Thangz to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Scan 7,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Jacob Miller,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Steve Hackett,
Wings,
Negative Approach,
The Gories,
Slick Rick,
the Slits,
The Count Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
CMW,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magma,
The Smoke,
Groovy Waters,
Bronski Beat,
Dawn Penn,
The Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
Liliput,
Buzzcocks,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
EPMD,
Smog,
June of 44,
This Heat,
Dead Boys,
Lower 48,
Loose Ends,
Livin' Joy,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Angels of Light,
Essential Logic,
John Coltrane,
Crooked Eye,
Alison Limerick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hoover,
The New Christs,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.