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 Liechtenstein and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps 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?
Adolescents,
the Normal,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thompson Twins,
Depeche Mode,
Erykah Badu,
Agitation Free,
Fat Boys,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
Grauzone,
Khruangbin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Barrington Levy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Byrd,
Surgeon,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Womack,
The Five Americans,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
Wasted Youth,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
La Düsseldorf,
Spoonie Gee,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mo-Dettes,
Eurythmics,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps,
The Gories,
Letta Mbulu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Y Pants,
Bad Manners,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeff Lynne,
E-Dancer,
Eve St. Jones,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-Ray Spex,
Tubeway Army,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.