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 Guyana and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Bourne to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Standells,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Wells,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Bronski Beat,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
10cc,
Theoretical Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Drexciya,
Outsiders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
Jacob Miller,
Rod Modell,
Banda Bassotti,
Main Source,
The Birthday Party,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
Reuben Wilson,
The Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
Adolescents,
Underground Resistance,
The Music Machine,
The Mummies,
Agent Orange,
Cluster,
The Gories,
Lower 48,
Roxette,
Circle Jerks,
Mark Hollis,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smiths,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Brass Construction,
Average White Band,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DJ Style,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sällskapet,
Schoolly D,
The Gladiators,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.