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 Burundi and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 8 Eyed Spy to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
cv313,
Blake Baxter,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Clear Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Starr,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Real Kids,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Young Rascals,
The Human League,
Scion,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fugs,
the Germs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DNA,
Scott Walker,
Byron Stingily,
Leonard Cohen,
Guru Guru,
Chrome,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wally Richardson,
Ronan,
Bootsy Collins,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The American Breed,
Mo-Dettes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
Eric Copeland,
Kenny Larkin,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
Can,
Kayak,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Siglo XX,
Marc Almond,
Los Fastidios,
Davy DMX,
Eve St. Jones,
Donny Hathaway,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yazoo,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.