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 Luxembourg and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kerrie Biddell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
The Saints,
Chris & Cosey,
Dave Gahan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bush Tetras,
Pierre Henry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sonic Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
ABC,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Byrd,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Das Ding,
Cheater Slicks,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Excepter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Michelle Simonal,
Maurizio,
Duran Duran,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
Subhumans,
Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
The Walker Brothers,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.