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 Angola and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eden Ahbez 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Bronski Beat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Almond,
The Techniques,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Con Funk Shun,
Deepchord,
Excepter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
New York Dolls,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pet Shop Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Supertramp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
Fatback Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Kenny Larkin,
Q65,
Mark Hollis,
The Monochrome Set,
OOIOO,
The Blues Magoos,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Juan Atkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
FM Einheit,
Ituana,
The Gun Club,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joy Division,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
The United States of America,
Maleditus Sound,
Hardrive,
Bauhaus,
Max Romeo,
Moby Grape,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nirvana,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Sherman,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.