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 Gambia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
Groovy Waters,
E-Dancer,
The Happenings,
Babytalk,
Roxy Music,
Silicon Teens,
Goldenarms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
Aloha Tigers,
Brass Construction,
the Association,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cybotron,
Surgeon,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Half Japanese,
Monks,
Morten Harket,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pole,
Avey Tare,
Black Sheep,
The Beau Brummels,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
Prince Buster,
Mad Mike,
Jawbox,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
Godley & Creme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Minny Pops,
China Crisis,
The American Breed,
Slick Rick,
Basic Channel,
Susan Cadogan,
X-Ray Spex,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.