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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Camouflage to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
In Retrospect,
Gang Gang Dance,
Von Mondo,
The Angels of Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
Morten Harket,
Amon Düül II,
Cameo,
The Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
Cymande,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
a-ha,
Jeff Lynne,
Brand Nubian,
The Evens,
Minny Pops,
The Names,
La Düsseldorf,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
Erykah Badu,
Pierre Henry,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris & Cosey,
Alton Ellis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radio Birdman,
Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Monolake,
Scion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
Chrome,
Sun Ra,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare,
Grandmaster Flash,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.