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 Angola and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Slick Rick,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hardrive,
Shuggie Otis,
The Vogues,
Howard Jones,
Magma,
Nas,
Massinfluence,
The Slits,
The Count Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
Swans,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Qualms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Bananas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Ronnie Foster,
Ohio Players,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rekid,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
Cheater Slicks,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
the Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Audionom,
Das Ding,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Newcleus,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick May,
Scrapy,
Brass Construction,
Hoover,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fear,
Nils Olav,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Infiniti,
Mo-Dettes,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.