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 Namibia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Parry Music 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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?
Kerrie Biddell,
Surgeon,
Flash Fearless,
Mantronix,
A Certain Ratio,
Mars,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Real Kids,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
Siglo XX,
Make Up,
Mo-Dettes,
Max Romeo,
Supertramp,
The Smiths,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
Letta Mbulu,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minny Pops,
Lucky Dragons,
Ronan,
Ultravox,
Idris Muhammad,
Hashim,
Sixth Finger,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Swans,
Smog,
The Dead C,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Mission of Burma,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
Magazine,
Jacques Brel,
Joensuu 1685,
X-Ray Spex,
Gichy Dan,
Vainqueur,
Nils Olav,
Au Pairs,
Joy Division,
Symarip,
Kayak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.