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 Portland.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Happenings,
Rekid,
ABC,
Joe Finger,
Clear Light,
Scion,
Procol Harum,
Masters at Work,
the Human League,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
the Slits,
Nas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Connie Case,
Quantec,
CMW,
Franke,
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Aural Exciters,
Ken Boothe,
Jeru the Damaja,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
Slick Rick,
Derrick May,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Mantronix,
The Litter,
OOIOO,
Joey Negro,
David Axelrod,
June of 44,
Ohio Players,
Danielle Patucci,
Alice Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Laurel Aitken,
the Fania All-Stars,
This Heat,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
Scott Walker,
Roxette,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.