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 Spain and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Spoonie Gee to the dance 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Bill Wells,
Soul II Soul,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxy Music,
Warren Ellis,
Lucky Dragons,
Maleditus Sound,
Pulsallama,
Wire,
Joy Division,
R.M.O.,
Hardrive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Matthew Halsall,
Circle Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
The Count Five,
Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moleskins,
The Moody Blues,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
Scott Walker,
Anthony Braxton,
The United States of America,
The Neon Judgement,
The Red Krayola,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
The Electric Prunes,
D'Angelo,
Sarah Menescal,
Joensuu 1685,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
MC5,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rod Modell,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aswad,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Absolute Body Control,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Moby Grape,
Agent Orange,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.