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 India and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Slave to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Second Layer,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Althea and Donna,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
Pantytec,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Teasers,
Scratch Acid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Godley & Creme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mo-Dettes,
Pagans,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Guru Guru,
Das Ding,
Peter and Kerry,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronan,
Reagan Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sixth Finger,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gap Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Mandrill,
Swell Maps,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erasure,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.