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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Public Enemy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Jacques Brel,
The Invisible,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zapp,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
The Young Rascals,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
Yazoo,
The Fall,
The Remains,
Q65,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Derrick Morgan,
Eddi Front,
New York Dolls,
The Toasters,
Index,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Machine,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Stooges,
John Foxx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delta 5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Busters,
Television,
Sight & Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
Adolescents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rites of Spring,
the Normal,
Ten City,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
Morten Harket,
Alphaville,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fugazi,
David Axelrod,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scrapy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Buzzcocks,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.