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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 T. Rex to the rock 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Deakin,
Essential Logic,
Eli Mardock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minny Pops,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cameo,
Procol Harum,
Urselle,
The Smoke,
Q65,
OOIOO,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Agent Orange,
Bill Near,
B.T. Express,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
The Evens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
AZ,
China Crisis,
Maurizio,
Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Hill,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Monolake,
The Mojo Men,
Slick Rick,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
The Black Dice,
Eve St. Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monochrome Set,
Tom Boy,
Sun City Girls,
Q and Not U,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
Masters at Work,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Zeros,
The Slackers,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.