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 Croatia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stetsasonic to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
Make Up,
R.M.O.,
Accadde A,
Nils Olav,
Jacob Miller,
Al Stewart,
Echospace,
Visage,
Eden Ahbez,
Cybotron,
Q and Not U,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Silicon Teens,
Ken Boothe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
Masters at Work,
Black Pus,
Malaria!,
Rites of Spring,
Byron Stingily,
Mantronix,
K-Klass,
The Barracudas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Second Layer,
Jawbox,
Marshall Jefferson,
Negative Approach,
The Divine Comedy,
Suburban Knight,
In Retrospect,
Ultravox,
Scion,
Barbara Tucker,
The Skatalites,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
E-Dancer,
Clear Light,
The Move,
Brick,
Judy Mowatt,
The Raincoats,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispy Ambulance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fear,
June Days,
Deadbeat,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Q65,
Suicide,
Andrew Hill,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.