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 Bahamas and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Count Five to the punk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Cybotron,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Evens,
The Doors,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wings,
Judy Mowatt,
DNA,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Vladislav Delay,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T.S.O.L.,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Talk Talk,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joy Division,
Dawn Penn,
Pere Ubu,
Moss Icon,
Radio Birdman,
Visage,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Fraelich,
CMW,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Crime,
Minutemen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Robert Hood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cal Tjader,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers,
The Fugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Skatalites,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
The Black Dice,
Chris & Cosey,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siglo XX,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.