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 Belize and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Flipper to the jazz 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Blake Baxter,
Sarah Menescal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Boz Scaggs,
Mr. Review,
Anakelly,
Vainqueur,
Hashim,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sight & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jeff Lynne,
Depeche Mode,
Patti Smith,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
Ken Boothe,
Ronan,
Faust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed,
Moss Icon,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
Yusef Lateef,
Quadrant,
cv313,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alphaville,
the Association,
The Happenings,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Wasted Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
Rapeman,
Moebius,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hot Snakes,
kango's stein massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Warsaw,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.