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 Cambodia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Real Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Five Americans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Symarip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
The Electric Prunes,
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Newcleus,
T. Rex,
Dark Day,
48th St. Collective,
Erasure,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
The Gories,
Infiniti,
Young Marble Giants,
Grauzone,
Rakim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
FM Einheit,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
Fatback Band,
The Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Juan Atkins,
R.M.O.,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
Easy Going,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sällskapet,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Black Pus,
Eve St. Jones,
Minutemen,
Nico,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Groovy Waters,
The Litter,
Eurythmics,
Soul II Soul,
Judy Mowatt,
U.S. Maple,
Mo-Dettes,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.