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 Lebanon and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Eddi Front to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smiths,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Sherman,
The Birthday Party,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Gang Dance,
The United States of America,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Warren Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
Boz Scaggs,
Amon Düül II,
John Cale,
Model 500,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
The Human League,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eve St. Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Offenders,
Flipper,
Moebius,
Bill Wells,
Anthony Braxton,
Al Stewart,
Skaos,
Thompson Twins,
Kayak,
The Grass Roots,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aaron Thompson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tubeway Army,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agitation Free,
Angry Samoans,
Siglo XX,
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
John Lydon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Infiniti,
Soft Machine,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Near,
D'Angelo,
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.