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 Costa Rica and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Television to the crunk 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Liliput,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Judy Mowatt,
Barclay James Harvest,
China Crisis,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
Eli Mardock,
Bronski Beat,
Mark Hollis,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Little Man,
Leonard Cohen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
Roxy Music,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Sneak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
Yaz,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang On A Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sparks,
Cecil Taylor,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Alton Ellis,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
LL Cool J,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
Unwound,
Lou Christie,
Nils Olav,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra,
Half Japanese,
Lower 48,
Babytalk,
L. Decosne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thompson Twins,
Ultra Naté,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Womack,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.