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 Liberia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Lalann to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skarface,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aswad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Television,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dead C,
Mad Mike,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
China Crisis,
Minor Threat,
The Pop Group,
Glenn Branca,
The Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
The Blackbyrds,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cramps,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Pet Shop Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
The Invisible,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
Smog,
Gong,
Q65,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sixth Finger,
Ultra Naté,
New Order,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.