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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Robert Wyatt to the rock 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Clarke,
Hashim,
Suicide,
Technova,
The Names,
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
Dennis Brown,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Derrick May,
Nirvana,
Cymande,
Country Teasers,
John Coltrane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boredoms,
Flipper,
Brass Construction,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
R.M.O.,
Colin Newman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ronnie Foster,
John Lydon,
Warsaw,
Grey Daturas,
The Music Machine,
Au Pairs,
Brick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Toasters,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
Prince Buster,
Pierre Henry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pet Shop Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ohio Players,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.