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 Malta and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crash Course in Science to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crime,
T. Rex,
Andrew Hill,
KRS-One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Frankie Knuckles,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tomorrow,
Sparks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wings,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Tremeloes,
Tommy Roe,
Lungfish,
Skarface,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
Moby Grape,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
The Grass Roots,
Zero Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Franke,
Siglo XX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mars,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Motions,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Kurtis Blow,
The Real Kids,
Can,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacob Miller,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gladiators,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.