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 Sri Lanka and from Madrid.
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 Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sun Ra 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Interpol,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magma,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Quando Quango,
Little Man,
The Real Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cowsills,
The Fire Engines,
Japan,
Andrew Hill,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
Scan 7,
Country Teasers,
Agitation Free,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Kerri Chandler,
Lebanon Hanover,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
L. Decosne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monks,
Fluxion,
D'Angelo,
The Victims,
Lakeside,
Masters at Work,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
China Crisis,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tommy Roe,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.