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 Papua New Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
In Retrospect,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tears for Fears,
Motorama,
Fat Boys,
Frankie Knuckles,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
Television Personalities,
Pylon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eddi Front,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Last Poets,
Cymande,
DJ Style,
Scion,
Arthur Verocai,
Wings,
Slick Rick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris Corsano,
Metal Thangz,
Lindisfarne,
Swans,
Electric Prunes,
The Birthday Party,
Sandy B,
Quadrant,
The Motions,
The Wake,
The Zeros,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Skatalites,
Freddie Wadling,
Q and Not U,
Vladislav Delay,
Y Pants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bush Tetras,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bad Manners,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
Radio Birdman,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
Skarface,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.