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 Andorra and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Angels of Light to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 linndrum and an oboe 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 organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Gang Green,
Donny Hathaway,
Lee Hazlewood,
K-Klass,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review,
Barry Ungar,
Kas Product,
Eric B and Rakim,
Massinfluence,
Ultra Naté,
Black Moon,
Scratch Acid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alton Ellis,
Slick Rick,
The Martian,
A Certain Ratio,
Iggy Pop,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Q65,
James Chance & The Contortions,
These Immortal Souls,
Agitation Free,
The Skatalites,
The Pretty Things,
Sixth Finger,
Cameo,
In Retrospect,
Carl Craig,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Görl,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
KRS-One,
Sister Nancy,
Youth Brigade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Pop Group,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ten City,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Vladislav Delay,
Clear Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Babytalk,
Morten Harket,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rotary Connection,
Young Marble Giants,
Moebius,
The Divine Comedy,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.