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 Chad and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 LL Cool J to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Whodini,
Quando Quango,
The Black Dice,
Stetsasonic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
The Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Connie Case,
Camberwell Now,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Warsaw,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
Schoolly D,
The Dirtbombs,
Letta Mbulu,
Joensuu 1685,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Interpol,
The Seeds,
Television,
June Days,
kango's stein massive,
China Crisis,
Gang Starr,
Vladislav Delay,
John Coltrane,
David Axelrod,
Nico,
EPMD,
Kurtis Blow,
Talk Talk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Slave,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sixth Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Marine Girls,
the Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
Hardrive,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.