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 Colombia and from Seoul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Smoke to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Ronan,
Black Sheep,
David McCallum,
Radio Birdman,
The Stooges,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agent Orange,
The Music Machine,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Quadrant,
Prince Buster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Young Rascals,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
Junior Murvin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Colin Newman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
Duran Duran,
June Days,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
Archie Shepp,
Byron Stingily,
Anakelly,
Toni Rubio,
Make Up,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
Dorothy Ashby,
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mr. Review,
Hashim,
The United States of America,
Simply Red,
Cybotron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Christie,
Saccharine Trust,
Babytalk,
The Birthday Party,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.