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 Portland.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 The Seeds to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Beau Brummels,
Ornette Coleman,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Massinfluence,
Grey Daturas,
Joy Division,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Black Dice,
The Selecter,
Sex Pistols,
Scion,
Kaleidoscope,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
E-Dancer,
DJ Sneak,
Guru Guru,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anakelly,
Absolute Body Control,
JFA,
Patti Smith,
Supertramp,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mummies,
The Happenings,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Clarke,
The Names,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deadbeat,
The Fall,
Derrick May,
China Crisis,
Lou Christie,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
Sparks,
Hashim,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
Swell Maps,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Livin' Joy,
Lucky Dragons,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Amon Düül,
Procol Harum,
The New Christs,
Section 25,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.