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 Andorra 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Residents to the rock 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Faraquet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Model 500,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Electric Prunes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
Gichy Dan,
Goldenarms,
Graham Central Station,
Joensuu 1685,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Spoonie Gee,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Toasters,
The Stooges,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
OOIOO,
Altered Images,
Henry Cow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
UT,
Eric Dolphy,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Desert Stars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Al Stewart,
Monolake,
June of 44,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
B.T. Express,
Soft Machine,
Moss Icon,
Erasure,
Wings,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harmonia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
Skarface,
Magazine,
The Evens,
Prince Buster,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gories,
Fatback Band,
Deakin,
Ornette Coleman,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.