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 Barbados and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Eurythmics to the disco 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
Nico,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force,
Moby Grape,
Mandrill,
Marcia Griffiths,
cv313,
Dead Boys,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
Spandau Ballet,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
Robert Hood,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare,
Pole,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
New Order,
Sex Pistols,
Essential Logic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roger Hodgson,
The New Christs,
The Index,
F. McDonald,
Nirvana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Unwound,
ABBA,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jawbox,
Y Pants,
Delta 5,
Lyres,
Henry Cow,
Erykah Badu,
Derrick Morgan,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.