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 Monaco and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 June Days to the rap 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Groovy Waters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Roxette,
Idris Muhammad,
Tomorrow,
Kayak,
The Velvet Underground,
Minny Pops,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Smoke,
The Motions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Echospace,
Funky Four + One,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Fela Kuti,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Soft Cell,
Nas,
Dennis Brown,
The Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Bad Manners,
Rod Modell,
Bronski Beat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Model 500,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David Bowie,
Swell Maps,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Funkadelic,
John Foxx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.