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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Gang of Four to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Bluetip,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
Todd Terry,
Boredoms,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques,
The Standells,
Jeru the Damaja,
EPMD,
FM Einheit,
Scientists,
ABBA,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Make Up,
Wire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
The Associates,
Nick Fraelich,
Section 25,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
The Dirtbombs,
Y Pants,
John Holt,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mandrill,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Theoretical Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Banda Bassotti,
Bauhaus,
Shoche,
Brothers Johnson,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
Amon Düül,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare,
The Red Krayola,
Boz Scaggs,
Massinfluence,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Reuben Wilson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The 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.