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 Kiribati and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Y Pants,
Camouflage,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
Livin' Joy,
The Offenders,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dirtbombs,
Nirvana,
Patti Smith,
Scrapy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Visage,
Clear Light,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Excepter,
Magma,
Leonard Cohen,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
The Birthday Party,
Flipper,
K-Klass,
Mark Hollis,
The Cramps,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sound,
Scott Walker,
Funkadelic,
Skarface,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
A Certain Ratio,
Carl Craig,
The Dave Clark Five,
Accadde A,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Anakelly,
Zapp,
The Beau Brummels,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mandrill,
the Association,
Sandy B,
These Immortal Souls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doors,
Sex Pistols,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slave,
Bill Near,
Oneida,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slick Rick,
Jeru the Damaja,
This Heat,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.