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 Tanzania and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Roxette to the funk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Darondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Urselle,
Maleditus Sound,
Eurythmics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Wire,
The Real Kids,
the Association,
The Cure,
Glenn Branca,
Interpol,
Silicon Teens,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Yusef Lateef,
Swans,
Goldenarms,
U.S. Maple,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Leaves,
Groovy Waters,
The Searchers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brand Nubian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Adolescents,
H. Thieme,
New Order,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
Lalo Schifrin,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
Slave,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Skarface,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Walker Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.