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 Algeria and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
The Techniques,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
PIL,
Scientists,
Robert Wyatt,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Association,
Oneida,
Talk Talk,
Echospace,
The Leaves,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Invisible,
Chris Corsano,
The Remains,
Pere Ubu,
Kas Product,
Idris Muhammad,
Cheater Slicks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cramps,
MC5,
a-ha,
Kaleidoscope,
Nik Kershaw,
New Age Steppers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brothers Johnson,
Barry Ungar,
Excepter,
The Busters,
The Modern Lovers,
Bluetip,
Blossom Toes,
Crash Course in Science,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Jawbox,
Gong,
Gang Starr,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
The Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Pop Group,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
Marvin Gaye,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Trumans Water,
Prince Buster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.