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 Lesotho and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Easy Going to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Robert Hood,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joey Negro,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sonics,
The Black Dice,
The Busters,
Lindisfarne,
Cameo,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins,
Ten City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bush Tetras,
Ossler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Khruangbin,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade,
Kaleidoscope,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Simply Red,
Faust,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bad Manners,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Style,
Agent Orange,
The Sound,
The Evens,
Sandy B,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Organ,
DNA,
The Neon Judgement,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Icehouse,
Rekid,
T.S.O.L.,
Lakeside,
Mark Hollis,
Stereo Dub,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.