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 Kenya and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Scott Walker to the punk 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
Malaria!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Selecter,
Peter and Kerry,
Rufus Thomas,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
The United States of America,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Sonics,
FM Einheit,
The Kinks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Funkadelic,
E-Dancer,
Sun City Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eddi Front,
Jeff Mills,
Letta Mbulu,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cure,
Newcleus,
Graham Central Station,
Cheater Slicks,
The Martian,
Erasure,
the Human League,
The Real Kids,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skarface,
Faust,
Marmalade,
Alton Ellis,
The Gladiators,
Gerry Rafferty,
cv313,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Interpol,
Scrapy,
Eurythmics,
KRS-One,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker,
Pole,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
In Retrospect,
Schoolly D,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.