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 Montenegro and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Kurtis Blow,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Talk Talk,
Moss Icon,
This Heat,
Parry Music,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
MC5,
Arcadia,
Flipper,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
Josef K,
The Gun Club,
Deadbeat,
Althea and Donna,
Excepter,
Black Bananas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Kinks,
Peter and Kerry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantaleimon,
The Busters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delta 5,
Fear,
The Velvet Underground,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
China Crisis,
Mr. Review,
The Trojans,
Harmonia,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
ABC,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Black Dice,
Todd Rundgren,
The Divine Comedy,
Sound Behaviour,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Duran Duran,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
The Index,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.