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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 New York Dolls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Aural Exciters,
cv313,
Visage,
The Last Poets,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Livin' Joy,
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
Rites of Spring,
Heaven 17,
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Robert Görl,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
Talk Talk,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Reuben Wilson,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
U.S. Maple,
Bill Near,
the Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Sarah Menescal,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
The Evens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tres Demented,
Yusef Lateef,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Neu!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terry Callier,
Motorama,
The Tremeloes,
Ten City,
Ultravox,
The Skatalites,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
MDC,
Matthew Halsall,
Cymande,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Durutti Column,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.