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 Finland and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 dance 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pussy Galore,
The Residents,
The Fuzztones,
Iggy Pop,
Tubeway Army,
Peter and Kerry,
T. Rex,
The Neon Judgement,
Parry Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Flesh Eaters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
Con Funk Shun,
Smog,
Crime,
Bluetip,
Das Ding,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
Scientists,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tommy Roe,
Liliput,
Sound Behaviour,
Scott Walker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Second Layer,
John Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed,
Nils Olav,
Dawn Penn,
Camouflage,
Susan Cadogan,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rakim,
Maurizio,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Clear Light,
Joy Division,
Tears for Fears,
Ponytail,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.