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 Senegal and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Symarip,
Fatback Band,
Pere Ubu,
Absolute Body Control,
The Barracudas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smiths,
Hot Snakes,
Dawn Penn,
Camberwell Now,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Almond,
Arcadia,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Malaria!,
Roxette,
Yazoo,
Wasted Youth,
The Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Terry,
Judy Mowatt,
Danielle Patucci,
New Order,
Grey Daturas,
X-101,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
The American Breed,
Stereo Dub,
The New Christs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Wake,
Rites of Spring,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Bourne,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
Ice-T,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magma,
Toni Rubio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
ABC,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cheater Slicks,
Rod Modell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.