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 Korea South and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rekid,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
John Lydon,
The Pop Group,
Moby Grape,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Modern Lovers,
Dennis Brown,
The Dirtbombs,
Archie Shepp,
Michelle Simonal,
R.M.O.,
Lalann,
Roger Hodgson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Hardrive,
LL Cool J,
Stiv Bators,
Q and Not U,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Remains,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantytec,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faraquet,
Bang On A Can,
Pierre Henry,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Symarip,
The Searchers,
The Real Kids,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Cybotron,
Jacques Brel,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Knickerbockers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Zapp,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiohead,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
Bobby Byrd,
Television Personalities,
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.