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 El Salvador and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 A Certain Ratio to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Fatback Band,
Moebius,
Bauhaus,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Alphaville,
The Martian,
Popol Vuh,
Darondo,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare,
The Skatalites,
Glenn Branca,
The Gap Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
Q65,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
Toni Rubio,
Au Pairs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Raincoats,
Magma,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Morten Harket,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Soul II Soul,
Basic Channel,
Colin Newman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
Maleditus Sound,
Warsaw,
Whodini,
The Smiths,
Alton Ellis,
The Mojo Men,
Eve St. Jones,
Sam Rivers,
Kurtis Blow,
FM Einheit,
LL Cool J,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hoover,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
Talk Talk,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.