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 Ivory Coast and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Erykah Badu to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Audionom,
Jawbox,
Crime,
The Slits,
The Associates,
Anakelly,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultravox,
Toni Rubio,
Fela Kuti,
Ken Boothe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fad Gadget,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
New Order,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
The Alarm Clocks,
Parry Music,
The Walker Brothers,
UT,
Whodini,
The Barracudas,
Magazine,
Schoolly D,
Erykah Badu,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
AZ,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantytec,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Interpol,
The Moleskins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sonics,
H. Thieme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minutemen,
Johnny Clarke,
John Foxx,
Lungfish,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Bourne,
Model 500,
Jeff Lynne,
Harmonia,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Golliwogs,
Pole,
Cal Tjader,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Busters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.