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 Azerbaijan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Public Enemy to the electroclash 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Peter and Kerry,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Interpol,
The Searchers,
Trumans Water,
Throbbing Gristle,
PIL,
The Busters,
Joensuu 1685,
Monks,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
Liliput,
The Fugs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Urselle,
Fugazi,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Procol Harum,
Junior Murvin,
The Saints,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Anthony Braxton,
Derrick Morgan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Gang Green,
The Names,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camouflage,
Marmalade,
World's Most,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
The Beau Brummels,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
Rapeman,
Echospace,
Parry Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
Bizarre Inc.,
Excepter,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.