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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Roger Hodgson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
JFA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Patti Smith,
Niagra,
The Walker Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Almond,
Au Pairs,
The Misunderstood,
Absolute Body Control,
The Stooges,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Womack,
The Red Krayola,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minnie Riperton,
John Lydon,
Bauhaus,
Yaz,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
Lucky Dragons,
Slave,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Metal Thangz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
T. Rex,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
Ornette Coleman,
Vainqueur,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warsaw,
Moebius,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
Pulsallama,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bang On A Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-101,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pierre Henry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Fania All-Stars,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.