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 Czech Republic and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 The Angels of Light to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
The Misunderstood,
Malaria!,
Janne Schatter,
Moebius,
Eddi Front,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donny Hathaway,
Heaven 17,
Thompson Twins,
Sällskapet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
the Sonics,
One Last Wish,
T.S.O.L.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy Collins,
The Smiths,
Second Layer,
Alice Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Hasil Adkins,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
Junior Murvin,
Roger Hodgson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Ornette Coleman,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
Pierre Henry,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Flipper,
MC5,
Andrew Hill,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eurythmics,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Mills,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Hashim,
Spandau Ballet,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.