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 Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Index to the electroclash 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Buzzcocks,
Howard Jones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barbara Tucker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rufus Thomas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
Basic Channel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Invisible,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Idris Muhammad,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Count Five,
Leonard Cohen,
The Golliwogs,
Pussy Galore,
Moby Grape,
The Raincoats,
La Düsseldorf,
The Doors,
Circle Jerks,
New Age Steppers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Sällskapet,
Liliput,
Audionom,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blossom Toes,
Bluetip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gichy Dan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
David Bowie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
Supertramp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.