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 Iran and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Beau Brummels to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
Jawbox,
Rotary Connection,
E-Dancer,
Yazoo,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New Age Steppers,
Mark Hollis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
L. Decosne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Joe Finger,
Robert Görl,
The Doors,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stockholm Monsters,
One Last Wish,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
John Lydon,
DNA,
ABC,
The Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Davy DMX,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
Chris & Cosey,
Flipper,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
La Düsseldorf,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fuzztones,
Amazonics,
The Music Machine,
Anthony Braxton,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.