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 Tanzania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tres Demented to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Kinks,
Fad Gadget,
Au Pairs,
Schoolly D,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Techniques,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Trojans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Zapp,
Pulsallama,
The Smoke,
Rod Modell,
Ten City,
The Gories,
Boredoms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kurtis Blow,
Japan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
The Wake,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hardrive,
Amazonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
Erykah Badu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gong,
Eurythmics,
Underground Resistance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
DNA,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.