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 Saudi Arabia and from Houston.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 The Gap Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Anakelly,
Maleditus Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
The Barracudas,
The Walker Brothers,
the Normal,
Oblivians,
R.M.O.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalann,
Alton Ellis,
Marine Girls,
Barbara Tucker,
Parry Music,
Gong,
Marc Almond,
Camberwell Now,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Wyatt,
Henry Cow,
Newcleus,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Ice-T,
Chris & Cosey,
The Five Americans,
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
The Knickerbockers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Donny Hathaway,
Arab on Radar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid,
Amon Düül,
Second Layer,
the Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
The Black Dice,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yaz,
The Young Rascals,
The Fuzztones,
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.