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 Estonia and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Rod Modell to the punk 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Traffic Nightmare,
H. Thieme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Moody Blues,
The Smiths,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Slits,
Oblivians,
Kenny Larkin,
Supertramp,
The Cure,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Flash Fearless,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sound,
The Gun Club,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
The Blackbyrds,
Symarip,
Khruangbin,
Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
Severed Heads,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Tubeway Army,
Jawbox,
Bronski Beat,
Bluetip,
Gang of Four,
The Invisible,
Ultravox,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Stereo Dub,
L. Decosne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dirtbombs,
Nick Fraelich,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex,
Outsiders,
Steve Hackett,
Accadde A,
Scott Walker,
Kayak,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.