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 South Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Yazoo to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
The Neon Judgement,
Minor Threat,
KRS-One,
Bill Wells,
The Saints,
Neil Young,
Bobby Womack,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Brand Nubian,
Hardrive,
OOIOO,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boz Scaggs,
Sam Rivers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
Joy Division,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Interpol,
The Selecter,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Josef K,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
The Searchers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
The Fuzztones,
Y Pants,
Spoonie Gee,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bluetip,
Ponytail,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kas Product,
Tim Buckley,
Magma,
Pulsallama,
F. McDonald,
Hashim,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.