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 Mauritius and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Lalo Schifrin to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Unwound,
Howard Jones,
The Mojo Men,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
R.M.O.,
Youth Brigade,
Altered Images,
Piero Umiliani,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Boz Scaggs,
Soft Cell,
Lungfish,
DNA,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
D'Angelo,
Icehouse,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flipper,
Niagra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Josef K,
The Grass Roots,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
Connie Case,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
Chris & Cosey,
Rekid,
Agent Orange,
Crime,
The Busters,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
Q and Not U,
Max Romeo,
Suicide,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Flag,
The Residents,
Von Mondo,
K-Klass,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
Dual Sessions,
Stereo Dub,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.