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 Botswana and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brand Nubian to the crunk 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Ronnie Foster,
Harry Pussy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Liliput,
Intrusion,
Moby Grape,
John Cale,
Maurizio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DJ Style,
Al Stewart,
Erykah Badu,
Bad Manners,
The Invisible,
The Move,
Shoche,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
UT,
Blancmange,
The Busters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Starr,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott,
Television Personalities,
Urselle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roger Hodgson,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Y Pants,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zero Boys,
Cymande,
Simply Red,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young,
The Doobie Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.