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 Namibia and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Skaos to the grunge 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Liliput,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
Joe Finger,
The Red Krayola,
The Smoke,
Soft Cell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Steve Hackett,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
LL Cool J,
Arcadia,
Janne Schatter,
New York Dolls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Livin' Joy,
Gong,
Derrick Morgan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fortunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Laurel Aitken,
This Heat,
The Associates,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Bananas,
Altered Images,
Fugazi,
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Matthew Halsall,
Morten Harket,
Chrome,
The Wake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monolake,
Clear Light,
Tres Demented,
Aural Exciters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bad Manners,
Quadrant,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
John Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ohio Players,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.