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 Croatia and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-101 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Metal Thangz,
The Residents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Womack,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David McCallum,
Hot Snakes,
The Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Coltrane,
Barry Ungar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
Jacob Miller,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
John Foxx,
Goldenarms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pulsallama,
Mantronix,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Slave,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Icehouse,
Television,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Hasil Adkins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Morten Harket,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Starr,
The Velvet Underground,
The Knickerbockers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doors,
Swell Maps,
Tubeway Army,
the Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
A Certain Ratio,
Ten City,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Interpol,
Mr. Review,
Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.