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 Zimbabwe and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Japan,
Sparks,
Main Source,
Fela Kuti,
The Raincoats,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
Tears for Fears,
New York Dolls,
Unwound,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Harry Pussy,
The Evens,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ronnie Foster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
The Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
Kenny Larkin,
Agitation Free,
New Age Steppers,
Country Teasers,
Outsiders,
Nick Fraelich,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cramps,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Camouflage,
Erasure,
Scion,
Peter & Gordon,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
Popol Vuh,
Youth Brigade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Anakelly,
Harmonia,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Hood,
The Young Rascals,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.