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 Portugal and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Duran Duran to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
OOIOO,
Lebanon Hanover,
Severed Heads,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
The Real Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brand Nubian,
DNA,
Cymande,
John Foxx,
Yusef Lateef,
James White and The Blacks,
Magma,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Mark Hollis,
Lalann,
Laurel Aitken,
The Beau Brummels,
Warren Ellis,
Eric Dolphy,
Depeche Mode,
Section 25,
John Cale,
Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
The Motions,
Mandrill,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fall,
Morten Harket,
Fear,
Fat Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quando Quango,
The Fugs,
Joensuu 1685,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Das Ding,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Echospace,
The Grass Roots,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
June Days,
Black Pus,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.