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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Simply Red to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Pylon,
The Cramps,
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Josef K,
Alice Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Easy Going,
The Victims,
The Slits,
Mandrill,
John Holt,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang On A Can,
The Skatalites,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Newcleus,
Underground Resistance,
Mad Mike,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
Howard Jones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
The Offenders,
Jeff Lynne,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sandy B,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
Arcadia,
Oneida,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion,
Sixth Finger,
Shuggie Otis,
Sexual Harrassment,
10cc,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fat Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.