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 Qatar and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the electroclash 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Drexciya,
Amazonics,
New Order,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jawbox,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
Soft Cell,
Robert Wyatt,
Hardrive,
This Heat,
Y Pants,
Joyce Sims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neu!,
Danielle Patucci,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spandau Ballet,
Deadbeat,
The Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Sällskapet,
Cal Tjader,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Sandy B,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
In Retrospect,
Faraquet,
Little Man,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiohead,
David McCallum,
Harry Pussy,
Donny Hathaway,
Whodini,
Outsiders,
Gang Green,
The Young Rascals,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Move,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Model 500,
Animal Collective,
L. Decosne,
Main Source,
Davy DMX,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
Colin Newman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.