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 South Sudan and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Spandau Ballet,
Marvin Gaye,
The Human League,
Visage,
Arab on Radar,
Radio Birdman,
The Doors,
Newcleus,
Soft Cell,
Soulsonic Force,
Marc Almond,
Suicide,
Little Man,
Marine Girls,
Main Source,
Mary Jane Girls,
One Last Wish,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ice-T,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Wyatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Excepter,
Kenny Larkin,
T.S.O.L.,
Glenn Branca,
Jawbox,
Moebius,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth,
Scientists,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
Soul II Soul,
Pere Ubu,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Television Personalities,
Wally Richardson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MC5,
Delon & Dalcan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.