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 Romania and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Porter Ricks to the disco 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Crime,
Yazoo,
The Neon Judgement,
The Electric Prunes,
Janne Schatter,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Clarke,
Letta Mbulu,
Unwound,
The Doobie Brothers,
DNA,
Siglo XX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Buzzcocks,
The Black Dice,
Niagra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Urselle,
Todd Rundgren,
the Swans,
Section 25,
Mad Mike,
Infiniti,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott Heron,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Joey Negro,
Scrapy,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Josef K,
Arcadia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jerry's Kids,
Bush Tetras,
Gabor Szabo,
Bauhaus,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Real Kids,
Aswad,
Dave Gahan,
This Heat,
Pylon,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
The Gun Club,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.