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 Malaysia and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
Technova,
Minny Pops,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Skriet,
Connie Case,
Moebius,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monks,
Marc Almond,
Idris Muhammad,
Yellowson,
David Axelrod,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quando Quango,
Kayak,
Banda Bassotti,
Mark Hollis,
Scion,
ABC,
DJ Style,
Hasil Adkins,
Aural Exciters,
Donny Hathaway,
Toni Rubio,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smiths,
The American Breed,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sound Behaviour,
Monolake,
Wally Richardson,
Black Pus,
Hardrive,
Flamin' Groovies,
Liliput,
The Moody Blues,
The Busters,
Circle Jerks,
Prince Buster,
Gabor Szabo,
Siglo XX,
The Golliwogs,
Can,
Lower 48,
Das Ding,
Bobby Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Lalann,
Crooked Eye,
Absolute Body Control,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.