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 Comoros and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Kool Moe Dee to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
Audionom,
Black Moon,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
Brothers Johnson,
The Skatalites,
Blancmange,
The Cramps,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deadbeat,
Scientists,
The Five Americans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
The Busters,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Birthday Party,
The Flesh Eaters,
Swell Maps,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Chrome,
Fela Kuti,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marshall Jefferson,
DNA,
EPMD,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxette,
Max Romeo,
Depeche Mode,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonic Youth,
D'Angelo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Associates,
This Heat,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Rod Modell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Sällskapet,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.