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 Tonga 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 The Five Americans to the techno 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
John Holt,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Busters,
Depeche Mode,
The Litter,
Anakelly,
Joe Finger,
AZ,
Bluetip,
David McCallum,
Radio Birdman,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Gong,
DNA,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dave Clark Five,
Young Marble Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
The Buckinghams,
Buzzcocks,
Black Flag,
Livin' Joy,
Sugar Minott,
Kevin Saunderson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
Camouflage,
UT,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
CMW,
Derrick May,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Intrusion,
The American Breed,
Cameo,
The Motions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roxette,
Dennis Brown,
Make Up,
Eddi Front,
Blossom Toes,
Average White Band,
Suicide,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Warsaw,
Crime,
Jeff Mills,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.