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 Tanzania and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Golliwogs to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Brothers Johnson,
Gong,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flash Fearless,
Underground Resistance,
The Slackers,
JFA,
The Gladiators,
Laurel Aitken,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Sherman,
the Human League,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Sneak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bauhaus,
Chrome,
Johnny Osbourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
The Sonics,
Kayak,
The Residents,
Wire,
Deepchord,
Second Layer,
Eurythmics,
Hasil Adkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Young Marble Giants,
John Foxx,
John Lydon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Animal Collective,
Pharoah Sanders,
Whodini,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slick Rick,
Fat Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Starr,
These Immortal Souls,
The Buckinghams,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Carl Craig,
LL Cool J,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.