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 Congo and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the grunge 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slick Rick,
Max Romeo,
Black Moon,
MC5,
Colin Newman,
Livin' Joy,
Agent Orange,
The Remains,
Derrick May,
Stetsasonic,
The Barracudas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Little Man,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Charles Mingus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter and Kerry,
Maurizio,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
Jawbox,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Christie,
The J.B.'s,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Visage,
Basic Channel,
The Dead C,
the Normal,
The Move,
Pantytec,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
In Retrospect,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Janne Schatter,
Circle Jerks,
Junior Murvin,
The Trojans,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
Hardrive,
The Evens,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
L. Decosne,
Ronan,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.