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 Malawi and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brand Nubian,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
T. Rex,
The Evens,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
Charles Mingus,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Sneak,
D'Angelo,
In Retrospect,
The Neon Judgement,
PIL,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Echospace,
Monks,
Nils Olav,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
The Move,
Anakelly,
Mantronix,
The Angels of Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Cluster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Magma,
The Moody Blues,
Oblivians,
Fear,
The Index,
Supertramp,
Inner City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Buzzcocks,
Dennis Brown,
Quadrant,
Roger Hodgson,
Parry Music,
Bobby Byrd,
Gregory Isaacs,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Model 500,
Index,
Hashim,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.