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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sugar Minott to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Easy Going,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
Fatback Band,
Prince Buster,
This Heat,
ABC,
the Swans,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bootsy Collins,
Boz Scaggs,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Almond,
Chrome,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gun Club,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Michelle Simonal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blancmange,
DJ Style,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kerri Chandler,
Los Fastidios,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dave Gahan,
Intrusion,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Index,
Vladislav Delay,
Clear Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Wake,
The Young Rascals,
Lyres,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Wyatt,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
The Raincoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neu!,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Marvin Gaye,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.