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 Ukraine and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Shadows of Knight to the crunk 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Excepter,
Marine Girls,
Liliput,
Young Marble Giants,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
Nils Olav,
The Moleskins,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Buzzcocks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Green,
China Crisis,
Zero Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rakim,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Angels of Light,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
Severed Heads,
Joe Smooth,
Matthew Halsall,
Siglo XX,
Sixth Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Alison Limerick,
Tommy Roe,
Henry Cow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drexciya,
Swans,
The Leaves,
Interpol,
The Move,
The Saints,
Main Source,
Public Enemy,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.