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 Tunisia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Junior Murvin to the techno 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
Toni Rubio,
The Dead C,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Wake,
The Buckinghams,
Jacob Miller,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang of Four,
ABBA,
Eden Ahbez,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Ken Boothe,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Judy Mowatt,
Wasted Youth,
Iggy Pop,
Pylon,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bad Manners,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
June Days,
Excepter,
Y Pants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Pierre Henry,
PIL,
Lakeside,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yaz,
Wings,
Roxy Music,
The Motions,
Sonic Youth,
The Litter,
Pagans,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gories,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
Brothers Johnson,
The J.B.'s,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Funkadelic,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.