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 Nepal 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 New Age Steppers to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
New York Dolls,
The Selecter,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
UT,
Icehouse,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang On A Can,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul II Soul,
Deadbeat,
Circle Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Gabor Szabo,
Pole,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Niagra,
Fluxion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Groovy Waters,
the Swans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Depeche Mode,
The Toasters,
The Velvet Underground,
Stiv Bators,
Todd Terry,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster,
DJ Sneak,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacob Miller,
Tres Demented,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Görl,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cal Tjader,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.