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 Brazil and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Archie Shepp to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Unwound,
Wings,
Ituana,
Groovy Waters,
New Age Steppers,
Blancmange,
The Index,
These Immortal Souls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arthur Verocai,
June Days,
Moebius,
MDC,
Ponytail,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Cheater Slicks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Standells,
Lindisfarne,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Basic Channel,
Jawbox,
the Normal,
JFA,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ice-T,
Letta Mbulu,
The Invisible,
Sight & Sound,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun City Girls,
Maurizio,
Mad Mike,
The Sonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Amazonics,
Scientists,
Sam Rivers,
Slave,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jimmy McGriff,
Model 500,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.