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 the UAE and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Metal Thangz to the dance 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Byron Stingily,
Minnie Riperton,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
Inner City,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Swans,
The Seeds,
Theoretical Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wally Richardson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Machine,
Scion,
New York Dolls,
Make Up,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Mojo Men,
Peter & Gordon,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Goldenarms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
the Slits,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
David Axelrod,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boredoms,
The Modern Lovers,
Japan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barrington Levy,
Pierre Henry,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
Animal Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
Crash Course in Science,
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.