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 France and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Black Bananas,
Peter and Kerry,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hoover,
Tropical Tobacco,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Piero Umiliani,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
Buzzcocks,
Harmonia,
Johnny Clarke,
Reagan Youth,
Intrusion,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tomorrow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Los Fastidios,
The Smoke,
Nirvana,
Ten City,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
Oneida,
Ultra Naté,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lucky Dragons,
Scan 7,
Swans,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
Judy Mowatt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
EPMD,
Pussy Galore,
Marshall Jefferson,
DNA,
Shuggie Otis,
Soul II Soul,
Young Marble Giants,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Hood,
Dave Gahan,
Brick,
Warren Ellis,
Camouflage,
The New Christs,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.