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 Bhutan and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Robert Hood to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
Neil Young,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Al Stewart,
Moby Grape,
The Flesh Eaters,
D'Angelo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
Vladislav Delay,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nation of Ulysses,
Con Funk Shun,
Judy Mowatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Young Marble Giants,
Agitation Free,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Black Bananas,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
Eurythmics,
Angry Samoans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Piero Umiliani,
DJ Style,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
Surgeon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amazonics,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
Subhumans,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
X-101,
June Days,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Joy Division,
R.M.O.,
Lucky Dragons,
Skarface,
The Durutti Column,
Wasted Youth,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.