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 Cambodia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Crime,
The Dirtbombs,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smiths,
Half Japanese,
Section 25,
Minutemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Shoche,
Sam Rivers,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kaleidoscope,
Pole,
Michelle Simonal,
Dark Day,
Magazine,
Soft Machine,
Average White Band,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül,
The Trojans,
Roxette,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mojo Men,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Danielle Patucci,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
Ronan,
Slave,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Q65,
Yellowson,
MDC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Chris Corsano,
Sun Ra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
The Monks,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.