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 Czech Republic 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Barrington Levy to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Doors,
Pylon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Danielle Patucci,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
Wings,
Infiniti,
the Association,
Buzzcocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eric Dolphy,
Yaz,
Lalann,
the Slits,
Heaven 17,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
Blake Baxter,
Rekid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rotary Connection,
Nico,
The Golliwogs,
Hot Snakes,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Bootsy Collins,
This Heat,
Thompson Twins,
The Gladiators,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Tropical Tobacco,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minor Threat,
X-101,
The Toasters,
The Durutti Column,
Kaleidoscope,
Rapeman,
Ludus,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Foxx,
Stetsasonic,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.