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 Bhutan and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Agitation Free to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
CMW,
Freddie Wadling,
Mo-Dettes,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Severed Heads,
Second Layer,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Grey Daturas,
Marmalade,
Aloha Tigers,
Barry Ungar,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
Quantec,
The Index,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Lou Christie,
Derrick Morgan,
Essential Logic,
Whodini,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
Banda Bassotti,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
June Days,
Tubeway Army,
Pantytec,
Robert Wyatt,
Popol Vuh,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
X-101,
Motorama,
Half Japanese,
Bluetip,
Sällskapet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nas,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.