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 Kazakhstan and from Houston.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siglo XX to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Deepchord,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
a-ha,
Fela Kuti,
The Barracudas,
Magma,
Fugazi,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Nils Olav,
Franke,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cal Tjader,
Thompson Twins,
Ossler,
Sam Rivers,
Adolescents,
Dave Gahan,
The Stooges,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Hill,
The Mojo Men,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mantronix,
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
Harpers Bizarre,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hoover,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
Byron Stingily,
Aswad,
Yaz,
The Slits,
The Standells,
Japan,
Camberwell Now,
Juan Atkins,
Black Moon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David McCallum,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
The Fuzztones,
Wings,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.