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 Qatar and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pet Shop Boys to the techno 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Camouflage,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Foxx,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
Yusef Lateef,
Soul II Soul,
Josef K,
Nas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
The Trojans,
The Pretty Things,
Deepchord,
Bobby Sherman,
Dark Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Remains,
Morten Harket,
Jandek,
Franke,
Ken Boothe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Normal,
Hot Snakes,
The Beau Brummels,
Khruangbin,
Pylon,
Underground Resistance,
Steve Hackett,
Radiopuhelimet,
In Retrospect,
Arthur Verocai,
Judy Mowatt,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
kango's stein massive,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Cale,
Stetsasonic,
The Move,
Quadrant,
Surgeon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Parry Music,
The Slits,
World's Most,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Minutemen,
Toni Rubio,
Excepter,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.