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 Vietnam and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Circle Jerks to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
X-102,
Fear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Outsiders,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Alphaville,
Severed Heads,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Schoolly D,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
The Martian,
Faraquet,
Duran Duran,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
John Lydon,
Ossler,
H. Thieme,
Inner City,
Clear Light,
The Slits,
Skriet,
Franke,
D'Angelo,
Newcleus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joensuu 1685,
ABBA,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
Brick,
Howard Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
Flipper,
Iggy Pop,
DJ Style,
Al Stewart,
Bill Near,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Selecter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Jeff Mills,
UT,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.