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 Monaco and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Man Parrish to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jandek,
the Germs,
Ultra Naté,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monks,
The Cramps,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marvin Gaye,
Metal Thangz,
Porter Ricks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Girls At Our Best!,
Guru Guru,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Visage,
Thee Headcoats,
The Toasters,
The Litter,
The Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Scientists,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
Young Marble Giants,
Tom Boy,
The Birthday Party,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hardrive,
The Sound,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Tommy Roe,
Organ,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mummies,
Crime,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Godley & Creme,
Nik Kershaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Teasers,
B.T. Express,
Pantaleimon,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.