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 Sudan and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Isaac Hayes to the crunk 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
Wire,
Wings,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
Letta Mbulu,
Mantronix,
Deadbeat,
Malaria!,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
cv313,
One Last Wish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yusef Lateef,
Patti Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Sam Rivers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Clear Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kurtis Blow,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell,
The Gories,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott Heron,
Josef K,
Darondo,
The Barracudas,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
Easy Going,
Jacob Miller,
Ultra Naté,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Pagans,
E-Dancer,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
KRS-One,
Erykah Badu,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
Yazoo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
Eli Mardock,
The Moody Blues,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Accadde A,
Susan Cadogan,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.