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 Costa Rica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lyres to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
the Sonics,
Oblivians,
48th St. Collective,
The Grass Roots,
Chris Corsano,
AZ,
Fear,
Slick Rick,
Barrington Levy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Bluetip,
Lungfish,
Ituana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eve St. Jones,
Crooked Eye,
Ken Boothe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Moody Blues,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Mills,
Byron Stingily,
The Star Department,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dennis Brown,
Dave Gahan,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cowsills,
The Real Kids,
UT,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Can,
Wings,
Eric Copeland,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Groovy Waters,
Lalann,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Schoolly D,
Panda Bear,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.