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 Israel and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Tim Buckley 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Boz Scaggs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Trojans,
Wolf Eyes,
Scrapy,
L. Decosne,
B.T. Express,
Sonny Sharrock,
Parry Music,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris Corsano,
Motorama,
The Blackbyrds,
Letta Mbulu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
Flash Fearless,
La Düsseldorf,
The Moody Blues,
The Fugs,
Masters at Work,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Godley & Creme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
kango's stein massive,
Little Man,
Marcia Griffiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
Television,
Easy Going,
Hashim,
Metal Thangz,
Eden Ahbez,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Maleditus Sound,
Arcadia,
Skaos,
Moebius,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Funkadelic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DNA,
Adolescents,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
Kerri Chandler,
Shoche,
Dark Day,
Gichy Dan,
Cybotron,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.