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 Zambia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Man Parrish to the rap 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Organ,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Skarface,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dead C,
Tres Demented,
Japan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hardrive,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
Soulsonic Force,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arab on Radar,
The Zeros,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra,
Mission of Burma,
Icehouse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
The Moleskins,
The New Christs,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Leonard Cohen,
Lightning Bolt,
Sound Behaviour,
Amon Düül II,
Radiopuhelimet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Black Bananas,
Fugazi,
A Certain Ratio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moby Grape,
Stereo Dub,
Kas Product,
Stetsasonic,
The Golliwogs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Zero Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Siglo XX,
Minor Threat,
Loose Ends,
Magazine,
Steve Hackett,
The Happenings,
The Invisible,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.