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 Benin and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Spandau Ballet to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Names,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Ronan,
The Fortunes,
Tim Buckley,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Excepter,
Slave,
Mandrill,
Freddie Wadling,
Andrew Hill,
Trumans Water,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Lungfish,
Lou Reed,
Iggy Pop,
Rites of Spring,
Judy Mowatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Funkadelic,
John Coltrane,
Scientists,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Sherman,
Television,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
Ituana,
Organ,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
the Swans,
Joey Negro,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cowsills,
Public Enemy,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry's Kids,
Gichy Dan,
The Fall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.