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 Tajikistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rap 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Siglo XX,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gang Green,
Prince Buster,
the Human League,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Slave,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ludus,
Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
The Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
Infiniti,
Barrington Levy,
The Tremeloes,
Isaac Hayes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL,
Chris Corsano,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Newcleus,
The Standells,
Bootsy Collins,
The Last Poets,
Arab on Radar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wolf Eyes,
Deakin,
Ohio Players,
Vainqueur,
Yaz,
One Last Wish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lower 48,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
Motorama,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Section 25,
The J.B.'s,
Kerri Chandler,
Bad Manners,
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
Gong,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.