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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rekid to the jazz 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Chrome,
Marine Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxette,
Cymande,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
ABC,
Pantytec,
The Barracudas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skaos,
Amazonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Sonic Youth,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Yaz,
Faust,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anthony Braxton,
The Doors,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Section 25,
Dark Day,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists,
Todd Rundgren,
Can,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Faraquet,
The Gun Club,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti,
Fad Gadget,
Pussy Galore,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.