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 Switzerland 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Gories to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Steve Hackett,
Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Organ,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
Ten City,
Television,
Kerrie Biddell,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
Girls At Our Best!,
B.T. Express,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Ponytail,
Lungfish,
Massinfluence,
Suburban Knight,
Outsiders,
Henry Cow,
The Stooges,
Boredoms,
Morten Harket,
Scientists,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
The Zeros,
Soul II Soul,
The Smoke,
Sun City Girls,
Ken Boothe,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Schoolly D,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Grass Roots,
The Happenings,
Ultra Naté,
Zero Boys,
DJ Style,
Dual Sessions,
Rekid,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.