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 New Zealand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Bobby Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Newcleus,
Nils Olav,
New York Dolls,
The Invisible,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Public Enemy,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
Supertramp,
The Moleskins,
Flipper,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siglo XX,
Arcadia,
The Gories,
Pulsallama,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Green,
The Five Americans,
Ultravox,
The Selecter,
8 Eyed Spy,
K-Klass,
X-101,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Bob Dylan,
World's Most,
Joyce Sims,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wire,
Simply Red,
Skaos,
Lungfish,
Joensuu 1685,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crash Course in Science,
Spandau Ballet,
The Motions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Leaves,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
Derrick May,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.