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 Macedonia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Bremen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Be Bop Deluxe 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
ABBA,
Joy Division,
The Index,
Gregory Isaacs,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
D'Angelo,
Lungfish,
Nico,
The Mojo Men,
Roxy Music,
Newcleus,
T.S.O.L.,
Babytalk,
The Slackers,
Amazonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
One Last Wish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
Blossom Toes,
Depeche Mode,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
PIL,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
Neu!,
Nas,
Q and Not U,
The Golliwogs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cameo,
The Blackbyrds,
Easy Going,
The Monks,
Flipper,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Rotary Connection,
Spoonie Gee,
John Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Inner City,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun Ra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Crispian St. Peters,
World's Most,
Grey Daturas,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.