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 Maldives and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Todd Rundgren to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nils Olav,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
Wings,
Sonic Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
Main Source,
Public Enemy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television,
Newcleus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rod Modell,
Nas,
Deepchord,
The Vogues,
Sällskapet,
Simply Red,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Clarke,
Al Stewart,
Rakim,
Audionom,
Steve Hackett,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
PIL,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Amazonics,
Sex Pistols,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Boredoms,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
Monks,
the Association,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mantronix,
Porter Ricks,
The Blues Magoos,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moss Icon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.