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 Croatia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
The Slackers,
Qualms,
Tears for Fears,
Metal Thangz,
Los Fastidios,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
The Kinks,
The Standells,
Nick Fraelich,
Alison Limerick,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eddi Front,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fatback Band,
The Birthday Party,
Sam Rivers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Moleskins,
The Last Poets,
The Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agitation Free,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Lydon,
The Raincoats,
Junior Murvin,
Lindisfarne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Intrusion,
LL Cool J,
Circle Jerks,
The Motions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
Lalann,
Unwound,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wolf Eyes,
Cymande,
Wings,
Black Sheep,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heaven 17,
Jandek,
The Neon Judgement,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.