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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Chrome,
Soul II Soul,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mad Mike,
Harpers Bizarre,
Godley & Creme,
The Remains,
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Style,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scrapy,
Joey Negro,
Talk Talk,
The Mummies,
the Human League,
Pulsallama,
Con Funk Shun,
These Immortal Souls,
Dawn Penn,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
Tubeway Army,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick May,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rapeman,
The Grass Roots,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hasil Adkins,
Idris Muhammad,
China Crisis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soulsonic Force,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Make Up,
The Star Department,
Stetsasonic,
Khruangbin,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Infiniti,
Basic Channel,
Bill Wells,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DNA,
Morten Harket,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.