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 Kosovo and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arcadia,
Inner City,
Joe Smooth,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fad Gadget,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
Angry Samoans,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
X-102,
Fluxion,
Black Sheep,
Bill Near,
Bootsy Collins,
Suicide,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Tommy Roe,
Buzzcocks,
Patti Smith,
Oneida,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Move,
Soul II Soul,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grey Daturas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Donald Byrd,
Jeff Mills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.