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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brand Nubian to the punk 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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
This Heat,
L. Decosne,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
The Star Department,
Josef K,
John Cale,
Television,
Marvin Gaye,
Porter Ricks,
Groovy Waters,
Suburban Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
Junior Murvin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Zeros,
In Retrospect,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
The Mummies,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
Cecil Taylor,
The Techniques,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Magma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Negative Approach,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Darondo,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harpers Bizarre,
a-ha,
Gong,
Zero Boys,
Underground Resistance,
Minor Threat,
Monks,
Pagans,
Metal Thangz,
The Victims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Sound Behaviour,
Essential Logic,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.