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 Brazil and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Drexciya to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker,
Laurel Aitken,
Rites of Spring,
Alphaville,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
Brand Nubian,
Index,
Urselle,
Jeff Lynne,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
Byron Stingily,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Pagans,
Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Animal Collective,
Q and Not U,
The Young Rascals,
The Smiths,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joy Division,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Main Source,
Iggy Pop,
Desert Stars,
PIL,
Second Layer,
Stiv Bators,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Womack,
The Fuzztones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Wells,
Lightning Bolt,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Halsall,
Chris & Cosey,
The Happenings,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.