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 Jordan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
Animal Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
Goldenarms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Half Japanese,
Sparks,
Warsaw,
Delta 5,
The Gladiators,
The Cramps,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Red Krayola,
The Music Machine,
Icehouse,
8 Eyed Spy,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
Skriet,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Altered Images,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Von Mondo,
Barbara Tucker,
Harry Pussy,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Cluster,
The Fortunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Monolake,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gong,
Moebius,
Aaron Thompson,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.