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 Ivory Coast and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
Harpers Bizarre,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Sugar Minott,
The Leaves,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
JFA,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Terry,
The Vogues,
Byron Stingily,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Holt,
the Association,
Erasure,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
Dave Gahan,
Don Cherry,
Lower 48,
Aural Exciters,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
Cymande,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Litter,
The Modern Lovers,
Gong,
The Pretty Things,
Black Sheep,
Animal Collective,
New Age Steppers,
The Divine Comedy,
The Stooges,
Amon Düül II,
Bad Manners,
Liliput,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radiohead,
The Cramps,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.