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 Greece and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Buzzcocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funky Four + One,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
In Retrospect,
The Index,
Joey Negro,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Kas Product,
Slick Rick,
The Monochrome Set,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
B.T. Express,
Basic Channel,
Minnie Riperton,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
The Modern Lovers,
Half Japanese,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Glenn Branca,
Bush Tetras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Move,
Harmonia,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
Qualms,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Darondo,
D'Angelo,
Simply Red,
The Human League,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
Smog,
The Divine Comedy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang of Four,
Lungfish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.