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 Finland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Qualms to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Quando Quango,
Crispian St. Peters,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
Model 500,
Lightning Bolt,
Popol Vuh,
The Gap Band,
Jandek,
Jeff Lynne,
Buzzcocks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Steve Hackett,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Average White Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Parry Music,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
Barclay James Harvest,
Liliput,
Patti Smith,
Television Personalities,
Adolescents,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
Moby Grape,
Traffic Nightmare,
Al Stewart,
Cecil Taylor,
Scientists,
T. Rex,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
The Dirtbombs,
Tom Boy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson,
Sandy B,
Isaac Hayes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maleditus Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick May,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Halsall,
Max Romeo,
Hardrive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Fraelich,
the Germs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.