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 Barbados and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Dave Gahan to the jazz 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marine Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DNA,
Nik Kershaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
MC5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Q65,
Eli Mardock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Holt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Minnie Riperton,
Soft Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Rundgren,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crooked Eye,
Swell Maps,
Funky Four + One,
Pussy Galore,
Freddie Wadling,
Ossler,
John Cale,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Busters,
the Association,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funkadelic,
Scion,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cramps,
Dave Gahan,
Flash Fearless,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Bill Wells,
In Retrospect,
Derrick May,
Fela Kuti,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.