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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
John Holt,
Lower 48,
The Tremeloes,
Lyres,
Dave Gahan,
The American Breed,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
The Trojans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Mr. Review,
Bauhaus,
Idris Muhammad,
Silicon Teens,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Knickerbockers,
Tres Demented,
Interpol,
Suicide,
The Happenings,
The Pop Group,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronan,
Black Bananas,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Blossom Toes,
Soul II Soul,
Sam Rivers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Icehouse,
DNA,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television Personalities,
Junior Murvin,
Brass Construction,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mark Hollis,
Technova,
Popol Vuh,
The Pretty Things,
Zero Boys,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.