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 East Timor and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sound Behaviour to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Popol Vuh,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed,
The Five Americans,
The Victims,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Spandau Ballet,
Basic Channel,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cluster,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lucky Dragons,
Rod Modell,
Anthony Braxton,
Scrapy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Television Personalities,
Hot Snakes,
Godley & Creme,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
L. Decosne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
Nils Olav,
Cameo,
LL Cool J,
Dennis Brown,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
Erasure,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Kevin Saunderson,
Andrew Hill,
Magazine,
Flipper,
Pierre Henry,
Man Eating Sloth,
One Last Wish,
Angry Samoans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
Al Stewart,
Pole,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Judy Mowatt,
Fear,
Das Ding,
Iggy Pop,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.