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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Age Steppers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Happenings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alphaville,
Ice-T,
The Residents,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
K-Klass,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drexciya,
The Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
Soulsonic Force,
Kayak,
Q65,
Roxette,
The Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
The Searchers,
Masters at Work,
Matthew Bourne,
Janne Schatter,
The Mojo Men,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T. Rex,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül II,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
Fear,
Jeff Mills,
Swell Maps,
Organ,
Girls At Our Best!,
This Heat,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Johnny Clarke,
Jandek,
The Smoke,
Amazonics,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television Personalities,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Los Fastidios,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slackers,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.