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 Marshall Islands and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Crash Course in Science to the jazz 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Leonard Cohen,
Ken Boothe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
OOIOO,
Amon Düül II,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Steve Hackett,
Wally Richardson,
Chrome,
Johnny Clarke,
Organ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flash Fearless,
Vainqueur,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Simply Red,
Terrestrial Tones,
Idris Muhammad,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Womack,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion,
Adolescents,
Pussy Galore,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Ten City,
Aaron Thompson,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Angels of Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Symarip,
Camberwell Now,
Metal Thangz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sparks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Mummies,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.