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 Algeria and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Dead C to the jazz 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kerrie Biddell,
Reuben Wilson,
Symarip,
The Dirtbombs,
Alice Coltrane,
K-Klass,
The Last Poets,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Kas Product,
ABBA,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smoke,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
Slave,
Idris Muhammad,
Q65,
Sun Ra,
Lower 48,
Faraquet,
MDC,
Soft Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
Suburban Knight,
Essential Logic,
The Gap Band,
Newcleus,
Franke,
the Germs,
Nas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Almond,
Marvin Gaye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-Ray Spex,
Boz Scaggs,
Babytalk,
Brass Construction,
Absolute Body Control,
Eli Mardock,
Von Mondo,
Qualms,
The Black Dice,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Drexciya,
Don Cherry,
The Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Warsaw,
Tears for Fears,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.