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 Tunisia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mr. Review to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
Clear Light,
Ponytail,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Foxx,
Ice-T,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Age Steppers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amazonics,
Sandy B,
Sparks,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
Hoover,
Buzzcocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Arab on Radar,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Excepter,
Cameo,
Pylon,
Basic Channel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sister Nancy,
Metal Thangz,
Rekid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sam Rivers,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Royal Trux,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moody Blues,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Animal Collective,
The Saints,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Carl Craig,
Stereo Dub,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Traffic Nightmare,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soul II Soul,
MDC,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
Patti Smith,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.