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 Andorra and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Anakelly to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
EPMD,
Porter Ricks,
The Beau Brummels,
Al Stewart,
Faraquet,
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Man Parrish,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Subhumans,
Visage,
Metal Thangz,
Erykah Badu,
F. McDonald,
The Busters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Bad Manners,
Bob Dylan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
Toni Rubio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men,
Television Personalities,
Hot Snakes,
CMW,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Sneak,
The Detroit Cobras,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Swell Maps,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABC,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
Faust,
DNA,
The Leaves,
Ludus,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.