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 Germany and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Fela Kuti to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Eli Mardock,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monochrome Set,
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
The Angels of Light,
Unrelated Segments,
The Litter,
Joensuu 1685,
Adolescents,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
Monolake,
Rotary Connection,
Sparks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
La Düsseldorf,
MDC,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Los Fastidios,
Groovy Waters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T. Rex,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter & Gordon,
Sugar Minott,
The Trojans,
Youth Brigade,
Ornette Coleman,
Chrome,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The United States of America,
Brand Nubian,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.