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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
Quando Quango,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
Eurythmics,
The Electric Prunes,
Brand Nubian,
Terry Callier,
Al Stewart,
Rhythm & Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Don Cherry,
Man Parrish,
The Slits,
Ten City,
Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
UT,
Bobby Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Faraquet,
The Barracudas,
Rakim,
Arcadia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Chris Corsano,
The Remains,
Liliput,
The Techniques,
Robert Wyatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Moebius,
Hot Snakes,
the Human League,
Maurizio,
Oneida,
The Index,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.