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 Djibouti and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Godley & Creme to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Cymande 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 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
The Buckinghams,
Visage,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Das Ding,
In Retrospect,
This Heat,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Saints,
a-ha,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-102,
Cymande,
T.S.O.L.,
Aswad,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
The Barracudas,
X-Ray Spex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
Ituana,
The Electric Prunes,
Sam Rivers,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Au Pairs,
Harry Pussy,
Franke,
Erasure,
Whodini,
the Germs,
Bob Dylan,
Terry Callier,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Cell,
Pierre Henry,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Monks,
Ponytail,
Organ,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.