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 Uzbekistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Lyres,
Marine Girls,
Ituana,
Skriet,
Magma,
Magazine,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flash Fearless,
David McCallum,
Das Ding,
Harpers Bizarre,
Procol Harum,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Connie Case,
Saccharine Trust,
Steve Hackett,
Sun Ra,
Stereo Dub,
Crispian St. Peters,
Prince Buster,
Jawbox,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris & Cosey,
Unwound,
Intrusion,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Michelle Simonal,
Don Cherry,
The Wake,
Wasted Youth,
Sex Pistols,
Kaleidoscope,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
Warsaw,
Dead Boys,
Scan 7,
Bootsy Collins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crime,
Laurel Aitken,
The Skatalites,
MDC,
Lungfish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warren Ellis,
Matthew Halsall,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
B.T. Express,
Q65,
Maurizio,
Ludus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter & Gordon,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.