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 Israel and from Copenhagen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Kenny Larkin,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Skatalites,
Supertramp,
Smog,
ABBA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
This Heat,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
The Wake,
John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Sonics,
Chris & Cosey,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Porter Ricks,
Icehouse,
the Normal,
Rekid,
Sun City Girls,
Urselle,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange,
Scan 7,
La Düsseldorf,
Nico,
Fat Boys,
Y Pants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
Rosa Yemen,
The Barracudas,
Terry Callier,
The Offenders,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.