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 Cameroon and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Porter Ricks to the electroclash 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Gerry Rafferty,
In Retrospect,
Tim Buckley,
The Monochrome Set,
the Germs,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Sugar Minott,
Q65,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Camberwell Now,
Mary Jane Girls,
CMW,
Technova,
Accadde A,
Country Teasers,
The Evens,
Brand Nubian,
Parry Music,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
a-ha,
Vainqueur,
The Seeds,
Marmalade,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
Popol Vuh,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Qualms,
Bob Dylan,
The Zeros,
The Martian,
The Toasters,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Minutemen,
Spoonie Gee,
Interpol,
Simply Red,
John Cale,
Loose Ends,
The Blackbyrds,
Deadbeat,
Livin' Joy,
Banda Bassotti,
PIL,
Oneida,
Dorothy Ashby,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Black Dice,
Symarip,
Fela Kuti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.