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 Seychelles and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Doors to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
The Kinks,
The Cowsills,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
Arcadia,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Saints,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Danielle Patucci,
Tubeway Army,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
Q and Not U,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed,
Erykah Badu,
Marmalade,
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Neil Young,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Green,
Black Flag,
Flash Fearless,
Blossom Toes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Lower 48,
Smog,
Babytalk,
Blancmange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donny Hathaway,
Quadrant,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
The Pretty Things,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Starr,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rites of Spring,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.