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 Sri Lanka and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 Busters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
The Evens,
Matthew Bourne,
The Blackbyrds,
Charles Mingus,
Iggy Pop,
Sällskapet,
Delta 5,
Urselle,
Marmalade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agitation Free,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Idris Muhammad,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
Easy Going,
Das Ding,
Slave,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Liliput,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Lynne,
Brass Construction,
Fad Gadget,
Outsiders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Christie,
Average White Band,
Soft Machine,
John Foxx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amon Düül II,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Womack,
Isaac Hayes,
R.M.O.,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
Lower 48,
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nas,
OOIOO,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-102,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
The Happenings,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.