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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rekid to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Blancmange,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joensuu 1685,
cv313,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ponytail,
Au Pairs,
Scientists,
The Names,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-102,
The Angels of Light,
Chris & Cosey,
Morten Harket,
Warren Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ornette Coleman,
the Swans,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
Roxette,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boogie Down Productions,
CMW,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
Duran Duran,
Mark Hollis,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
Television,
Pylon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Almond,
Michelle Simonal,
Mr. Review,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sister Nancy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
UT,
KRS-One,
Barclay James Harvest,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wasted Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
T. Rex,
The Doobie Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.