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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin 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 Black Bananas to the grunge 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Franke,
The Sonics,
The Real Kids,
Nico,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Steve Hackett,
The Searchers,
DJ Style,
Judy Mowatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Monks,
Pagans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scion,
Dual Sessions,
The Star Department,
kango's stein massive,
Massinfluence,
The Raincoats,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
The Happenings,
Hashim,
The Fugs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Second Layer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Detroit Cobras,
Whodini,
Q65,
Con Funk Shun,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Outsiders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harmonia,
the Bar-Kays,
Pussy Galore,
One Last Wish,
The Moleskins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Liliput,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxy Music,
the Slits,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Pylon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cybotron,
The Techniques,
Intrusion,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.