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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
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 808 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Amazonics,
Morten Harket,
Lou Reed,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Görl,
Scott Walker,
Anakelly,
Mars,
Icehouse,
The Golliwogs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alton Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
The Standells,
This Heat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Victims,
Minor Threat,
Deepchord,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pussy Galore,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Guru Guru,
Moby Grape,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
John Coltrane,
OOIOO,
The Durutti Column,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
Saccharine Trust,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
10cc,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
L. Decosne,
Fatback Band,
The Invisible,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Section 25,
David Axelrod,
Funkadelic,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Happenings,
Rites of Spring,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Green,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.