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 Sierra Leone and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Au Pairs to the dance 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
Country Teasers,
Delta 5,
Danielle Patucci,
Rosa Yemen,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Tremeloes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ice-T,
Slave,
Jeff Mills,
Neu!,
Yaz,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Letta Mbulu,
Groovy Waters,
The Blackbyrds,
Cluster,
The Kinks,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
Grauzone,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Offenders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Swans,
Fatback Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Young Rascals,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fat Boys,
The Five Americans,
Bob Dylan,
Mo-Dettes,
Basic Channel,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Womack,
Roxette,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Gang Dance,
Don Cherry,
Porter Ricks,
The Raincoats,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.