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 Vietnam and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jesper Dahlbäck 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
Soft Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
The Offenders,
Reagan Youth,
Deakin,
the Human League,
a-ha,
Boredoms,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delta 5,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Quando Quango,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Birthday Party,
DNA,
Connie Case,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Rundgren,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Lyres,
Fatback Band,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonic Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Graham Central Station,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Derrick Morgan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stereo Dub,
The Zeros,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Marcia Griffiths,
Average White Band,
Pantaleimon,
Moss Icon,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.