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 Bahrain and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Alice Coltrane to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Toasters,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
Banda Bassotti,
Eve St. Jones,
Pulsallama,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
Marmalade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
a-ha,
Dead Boys,
Siglo XX,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quando Quango,
The Fortunes,
Ponytail,
Cluster,
T.S.O.L.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scratch Acid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Motions,
OOIOO,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
Michelle Simonal,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Saccharine Trust,
Sun Ra,
kango's stein massive,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doors,
The Cramps,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scott Walker,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
Warsaw,
Fatback Band,
Main Source,
Make Up,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Newcleus,
Faust,
Rosa Yemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Lalann,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.