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 South Africa and from Salvador.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Graham Central Station to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Trumans Water,
Jimmy McGriff,
Accadde A,
Television,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Malaria!,
Das Ding,
Organ,
F. McDonald,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
World's Most,
The Dirtbombs,
Donny Hathaway,
B.T. Express,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Vogues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alison Limerick,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fugs,
Japan,
Outsiders,
Tropical Tobacco,
UT,
the Human League,
Scion,
Bang On A Can,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sugar Minott,
Crash Course in Science,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
In Retrospect,
Dawn Penn,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
The Human League,
Hoover,
Gang Starr,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
Anakelly,
The Cure,
the Germs,
Charles Mingus,
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joy Division,
Dave Gahan,
Donald Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
Spoonie Gee,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.