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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Smog to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
Lower 48,
Malaria!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Albert Ayler,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter and Kerry,
JFA,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
The Zeros,
The Gap Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Deepchord,
Nico,
Kayak,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
Simply Red,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
T.S.O.L.,
The Five Americans,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk,
Heaven 17,
Popol Vuh,
Fugazi,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
Grey Daturas,
Fatback Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Wake,
Shuggie Otis,
kango's stein massive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Von Mondo,
Bluetip,
Wasted Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.