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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 DJ Style to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Intrusion,
Black Pus,
Sound Behaviour,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Massinfluence,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
The Smiths,
Sandy B,
L. Decosne,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
the Normal,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Half Japanese,
The Happenings,
Ronnie Foster,
Nils Olav,
Chris Corsano,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monolake,
Suicide,
X-101,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
DJ Style,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Byrd,
Lower 48,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
Agent Orange,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
The Trojans,
Eric Copeland,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
Connie Case,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ohio Players,
Steve Hackett,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.