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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Sam Rivers to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Mills,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
Pantaleimon,
Cameo,
The Mummies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erykah Badu,
Fatback Band,
The Smiths,
Radiohead,
Boogie Down Productions,
kango's stein massive,
Peter & Gordon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tears for Fears,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Dawn Penn,
Newcleus,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
Quando Quango,
Prince Buster,
The Misunderstood,
June Days,
Harmonia,
Gong,
The Victims,
Animal Collective,
Steve Hackett,
Zero Boys,
DJ Sneak,
ABBA,
The Stooges,
Desert Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Barrington Levy,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Andrew Hill,
Talk Talk,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Freddie Wadling,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
Intrusion,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Mars,
The Seeds,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.