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 Lebanon and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Iggy Pop,
Japan,
Nils Olav,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
Wings,
Minor Threat,
Sparks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Fatback Band,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Finger,
The Gories,
The New Christs,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
The Fortunes,
Rekid,
The Evens,
Rhythm & Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smoke,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pole,
Massinfluence,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Star Department,
Ossler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Shoche,
The Raincoats,
Al Stewart,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Index,
Barrington Levy,
The Misunderstood,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.