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 China and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Sun City Girls to the funk 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Pantaleimon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Au Pairs,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
Matthew Halsall,
Minny Pops,
Suburban Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Panda Bear,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
Skriet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Schoolly D,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Christie,
Michelle Simonal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Niagra,
Black Moon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Television Personalities,
ABC,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Five Americans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moebius,
Sun Ra,
Soul II Soul,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Joey Negro,
Kerrie Biddell,
UT,
Avey Tare,
Oneida,
Eli Mardock,
Connie Case,
Los Fastidios,
Amazonics,
Kayak,
Scion,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.