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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Lagos and Copenhagen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Minutemen,
Yaz,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
The Smoke,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
Morten Harket,
Silicon Teens,
Beasts of Bourbon,
MC5,
Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
JFA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aural Exciters,
Glenn Branca,
Terrestrial Tones,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Slackers,
Delta 5,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
DNA,
Arthur Verocai,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
The Dirtbombs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ice-T,
Kas Product,
Ultravox,
The Cosmic Jokers,
MDC,
The Red Krayola,
Lucky Dragons,
Technova,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharoah Sanders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Rites of Spring,
Shoche,
Newcleus,
K-Klass,
Dennis Brown,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Clarke,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators,
Eddi Front,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.