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 Saudi Arabia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Harry Pussy 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Bananas,
Unrelated Segments,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Newcleus,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Janne Schatter,
Skaos,
The Monochrome Set,
The Modern Lovers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gichy Dan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Main Source,
Sixth Finger,
the Germs,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
The Wake,
Yazoo,
Basic Channel,
U.S. Maple,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Smog,
Depeche Mode,
Eve St. Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tommy Roe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
The Music Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Swell Maps,
Young Marble Giants,
Lalann,
Underground Resistance,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eddi Front,
Monks,
Grauzone,
Barrington Levy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Hashim,
Sun City Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.