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 Namibia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Royal Trux to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Kayak,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barrington Levy,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Davy DMX,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Halsall,
Anakelly,
Tim Buckley,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Womack,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick May,
MC5,
Derrick Morgan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Ohio Players,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monks,
Ornette Coleman,
Pussy Galore,
Aswad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Little Man,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
Bobby Byrd,
Magma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
Gang Starr,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
Donny Hathaway,
Donald Byrd,
The Zeros,
Roger Hodgson,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
Siglo XX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Pus,
Nas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
the Normal,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.