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 Yemen and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar 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 Cal Tjader to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
The Walker Brothers,
DNA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Bananas,
Chrome,
Flipper,
cv313,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agitation Free,
Dennis Brown,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
Ultravox,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ten City,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hot Snakes,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
The Gories,
The Black Dice,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed,
Liliput,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mo-Dettes,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Techniques,
Reuben Wilson,
Jandek,
The Sound,
Amon Düül,
Cameo,
The Raincoats,
The Fortunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Brothers Johnson,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
Spandau Ballet,
Ronnie Foster,
Cybotron,
Tim Buckley,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Victims,
Brick,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.