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 Slovakia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the dance 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
Sight & Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Scrapy,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fuzztones,
Mo-Dettes,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
Joey Negro,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
The Angels of Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Negative Approach,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
The Five Americans,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Metal Thangz,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
Soft Cell,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
The Beau Brummels,
Scion,
John Lydon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gladiators,
Quadrant,
The Real Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Altered Images,
The Moody Blues,
Camberwell Now,
The Zeros,
Cal Tjader,
Sam Rivers,
Isaac Hayes,
Marvin Gaye,
Alphaville,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.