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 Tonga and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 to the rock 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Joyce Sims,
Quantec,
Sun City Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Godley & Creme,
Barbara Tucker,
Silicon Teens,
The Remains,
Suicide,
The Cure,
Hot Snakes,
The Dirtbombs,
Nas,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
The Last Poets,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yellowson,
Japan,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange,
Barclay James Harvest,
Spoonie Gee,
UT,
Archie Shepp,
Bauhaus,
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Gang Dance,
David Bowie,
Talk Talk,
Thee Headcoats,
Jerry's Kids,
The Seeds,
The Music Machine,
Dave Gahan,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
Siglo XX,
Gang Green,
Brothers Johnson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Andrew Hill,
The Saints,
Eric Dolphy,
Toni Rubio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Foxx,
The Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kenny Larkin,
Alice Coltrane,
Das Ding,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.