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 Mali and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Organ to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
Symarip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sällskapet,
Infiniti,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues,
Ponytail,
Royal Trux,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
Yellowson,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Bar-Kays,
Byron Stingily,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Judy Mowatt,
Make Up,
Susan Cadogan,
Shoche,
Zapp,
Godley & Creme,
Lakeside,
Quadrant,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
U.S. Maple,
Grey Daturas,
Youth Brigade,
Blancmange,
the Swans,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Clarke,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
The Birthday Party,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
The Gap Band,
The Names,
Derrick May,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ice-T,
Procol Harum,
the Germs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blackbyrds,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.