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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spoonie Gee,
Laurel Aitken,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Von Mondo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül,
Roger Hodgson,
The Wake,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
One Last Wish,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
The Sonics,
Camouflage,
Swell Maps,
Subhumans,
Nik Kershaw,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers,
The Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Crime,
FM Einheit,
Angry Samoans,
Eddi Front,
Rotary Connection,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Machine,
The Human League,
Royal Trux,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
Joensuu 1685,
Livin' Joy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yaz,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
Brothers Johnson,
The Evens,
Terry Callier,
Black Moon,
Alton Ellis,
Audionom,
Bad Manners,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Suicide,
Rekid,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.