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 United Kingdom and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Althea and Donna to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Slave,
Ludus,
Mantronix,
John Holt,
The American Breed,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zapp,
The Remains,
Suburban Knight,
Animal Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Josef K,
Dual Sessions,
Young Marble Giants,
Hoover,
Bobby Byrd,
The Mojo Men,
Agitation Free,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Juan Atkins,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
Steve Hackett,
Michelle Simonal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arcadia,
Kayak,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
Piero Umiliani,
Sugar Minott,
Lungfish,
Qualms,
Marc Almond,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
The Evens,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Zero Boys,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Sister Nancy,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.