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 Israel and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Normal to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Neu!,
ABC,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Swans,
Rapeman,
Duran Duran,
Electric Prunes,
Scrapy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Freddie Wadling,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Litter,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Motions,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
Prince Buster,
The Blackbyrds,
Mars,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Carl Craig,
Joensuu 1685,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Skatalites,
Ultimate Spinach,
DNA,
Gang Starr,
Donny Hathaway,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amazonics,
Bill Wells,
New Age Steppers,
Agent Orange,
Josef K,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
LL Cool J,
Brothers Johnson,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Monks,
Yaz,
Eurythmics,
Aural Exciters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
K-Klass,
Sound Behaviour,
Eden Ahbez,
Easy Going,
kango's stein massive,
Ten City,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.