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 Rwanda 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Moebius to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Amazonics,
Lakeside,
Yaz,
Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Smooth,
Wings,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
The Fugs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yellowson,
MDC,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
Hardrive,
Marc Almond,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Steve Hackett,
Wasted Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
X-101,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Young Rascals,
Sugar Minott,
Boredoms,
the Sonics,
Jandek,
Oneida,
Josef K,
Alton Ellis,
Marine Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Ponytail,
Scion,
X-102,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mummies,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Terry,
Hashim,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.