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 Vanuatu and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Maurizio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
Agent Orange,
Scott Walker,
June Days,
Danielle Patucci,
Swans,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
Quadrant,
The American Breed,
Howard Jones,
Soft Machine,
The Sonics,
R.M.O.,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxette,
Livin' Joy,
Unrelated Segments,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
Q65,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
KRS-One,
Carl Craig,
Audionom,
Sällskapet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
Fatback Band,
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Saccharine Trust,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cure,
Wings,
The Blues Magoos,
Letta Mbulu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bill Wells,
Robert Hood,
Arcadia,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.