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 Morocco and from Calgary.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Nico,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
The Star Department,
Cymande,
The Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
David Axelrod,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
Iggy Pop,
L. Decosne,
JFA,
Parry Music,
Funkadelic,
Erasure,
Joe Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masters at Work,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
10cc,
Moebius,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
the Normal,
Sound Behaviour,
Q and Not U,
Negative Approach,
Bill Wells,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Green,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Make Up,
The Monks,
Aural Exciters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
KRS-One,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
Rapeman,
Hashim,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.