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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Country Teasers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
Fad Gadget,
Icehouse,
Buzzcocks,
Rekid,
Joey Negro,
The Misunderstood,
Joe Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Marvin Gaye,
Sam Rivers,
Skriet,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roxy Music,
Tom Boy,
The Martian,
Monolake,
Archie Shepp,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
Y Pants,
Inner City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
Dennis Brown,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cal Tjader,
The Zeros,
Basic Channel,
Max Romeo,
Depeche Mode,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronan,
kango's stein massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Age Steppers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The American Breed,
Gabor Szabo,
Judy Mowatt,
The Golliwogs,
AZ,
The Names,
Con Funk Shun,
Tears for Fears,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
the Germs,
Chrome,
Scientists,
Duran Duran,
Todd Rundgren,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.