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 Marshall Islands and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funkadelic to the funk 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Visage,
Michelle Simonal,
Public Enemy,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Stetsasonic,
Duran Duran,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Isaac Hayes,
Ludus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Style,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Lynne,
Funkadelic,
Faraquet,
World's Most,
Mad Mike,
Iggy Pop,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
The Tremeloes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yaz,
T.S.O.L.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Country Teasers,
Max Romeo,
the Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Fad Gadget,
Nik Kershaw,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
New Age Steppers,
Tubeway Army,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Sheep,
Yazoo,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
Icehouse,
Rosa Yemen,
Swans,
ABC,
the Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
The Stooges,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.