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 Niger and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tears for Fears to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Excepter,
Joy Division,
Iggy Pop,
Yaz,
Scientists,
Janne Schatter,
Wally Richardson,
Boredoms,
DNA,
The Sound,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Green,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nas,
Pulsallama,
The Victims,
Theoretical Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Bobby Womack,
Niagra,
Skarface,
The Real Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Brick,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Brothers Johnson,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sällskapet,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Ossler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kaleidoscope,
Marine Girls,
Rakim,
Accadde A,
Sugar Minott,
Ituana,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rotary Connection,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.