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 Dominica and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eddi Front to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Audionom,
Cymande,
Severed Heads,
China Crisis,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
kango's stein massive,
Television Personalities,
The Standells,
Underground Resistance,
Patti Smith,
The Names,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
Barbara Tucker,
David Axelrod,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marvin Gaye,
The Remains,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
Metal Thangz,
Scan 7,
Blossom Toes,
Tears for Fears,
Visage,
Lyres,
Skriet,
Parry Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donald Byrd,
The Five Americans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Lynne,
Vainqueur,
The Fall,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brothers Johnson,
Tom Boy,
Talk Talk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eden Ahbez,
Lungfish,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.