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 Switzerland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Drive Like Jehu to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
Khruangbin,
Neil Young,
The Move,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Selecter,
Sun City Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Y Pants,
New Age Steppers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wings,
Eli Mardock,
The Monochrome Set,
World's Most,
Cymande,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantytec,
Nils Olav,
Man Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Axelrod,
The Durutti Column,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rites of Spring,
ABC,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
X-102,
the Germs,
Erykah Badu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Trumans Water,
Monolake,
Gang Green,
cv313,
Sixth Finger,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Young Marble Giants,
Blancmange,
Connie Case,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.