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 Samoa and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Robert Wyatt to the disco 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Yellowson,
Dark Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cowsills,
Ronan,
Babytalk,
Barrington Levy,
FM Einheit,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Birthday Party,
PIL,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monks,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eurythmics,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Terry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Laurel Aitken,
Technova,
The Techniques,
Ice-T,
Eve St. Jones,
The Remains,
The Mojo Men,
Blake Baxter,
Panda Bear,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alphaville,
Shuggie Otis,
In Retrospect,
Eddi Front,
Blancmange,
Amazonics,
Albert Ayler,
Rotary Connection,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
Sister Nancy,
Pantaleimon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Simply Red,
Surgeon,
Rosa Yemen,
David Axelrod,
Altered Images,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boredoms,
The Slits,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.