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 Netherlands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
World's Most,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deepchord,
Colin Newman,
the Soft Cell,
Blancmange,
Jandek,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siglo XX,
The Moody Blues,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Evens,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeff Lynne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lakeside,
Derrick May,
Neil Young,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Boz Scaggs,
Sex Pistols,
The Gories,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Symarip,
Swans,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Skriet,
Fluxion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cymande,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Basic Channel,
Rufus Thomas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama,
The Tremeloes,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
Wasted Youth,
Arab on Radar,
The Mojo Men,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
Cybotron,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.