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 Costa Rica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Neil Young,
Japan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Radiohead,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Jerry's Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Alphaville,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tim Buckley,
Stockholm Monsters,
China Crisis,
Groovy Waters,
Pere Ubu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
The Searchers,
Letta Mbulu,
Ituana,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fortunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Second Layer,
One Last Wish,
Rapeman,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Sheep,
Janne Schatter,
Isaac Hayes,
Blancmange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joey Negro,
Todd Terry,
Theoretical Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Pussy Galore,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.