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 Malta and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Tubeway Army to the punk 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Pop Group,
Eden Ahbez,
Whodini,
The Leaves,
The Barracudas,
The Fire Engines,
D'Angelo,
Suburban Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Motorama,
Joey Negro,
The Birthday Party,
The Monochrome Set,
Darondo,
Symarip,
The Blues Magoos,
Idris Muhammad,
Siglo XX,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
Franke,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Deepchord,
The United States of America,
Fatback Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
Mad Mike,
T. Rex,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Lynne,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Juan Atkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
The Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Barbara Tucker,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Gerry Rafferty,
Agent Orange,
Lightning Bolt,
The Selecter,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.