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 Australia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 X-Ray Spex to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Country Teasers,
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
UT,
Jacob Miller,
Monks,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Görl,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Grass Roots,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Groovy Waters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agent Orange,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delon & Dalcan,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alphaville,
Franke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Can,
Nils Olav,
Mission of Burma,
Organ,
Rekid,
Fear,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
the Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
Tears for Fears,
Henry Cow,
Bad Manners,
Gastr Del Sol,
E-Dancer,
Stiv Bators,
Schoolly D,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
the Slits,
Wings,
The Last Poets,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.