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 Kazakhstan and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the grunge 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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Morten Harket,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DNA,
The Dirtbombs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Little Man,
Danielle Patucci,
Franke,
China Crisis,
MDC,
Moebius,
Niagra,
Rod Modell,
Depeche Mode,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
F. McDonald,
Lindisfarne,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Ice-T,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Motions,
Gong,
The Slackers,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Anakelly,
Bill Wells,
The Sonics,
Masters at Work,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Pharoah Sanders,
Michelle Simonal,
The Birthday Party,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skaos,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Juan Atkins,
The Happenings,
Brass Construction,
Von Mondo,
Ossler,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alison Limerick,
Harry Pussy,
Porter Ricks,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.