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 Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 FM Einheit to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Monolake,
Rites of Spring,
The Barracudas,
Section 25,
Negative Approach,
Eddi Front,
Peter and Kerry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
Quantec,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Toni Rubio,
Piero Umiliani,
10cc,
Sun Ra,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Kinks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
David Axelrod,
Warren Ellis,
John Lydon,
Idris Muhammad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dorothy Ashby,
Electric Prunes,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
Television,
Ten City,
Can,
The Blues Magoos,
The Star Department,
Brand Nubian,
Harmonia,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Roy Ayers,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Black Dice,
Au Pairs,
The Count Five,
The Raincoats,
Lungfish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Modern Lovers,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.