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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 8 Eyed Spy 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cymande,
Tubeway Army,
Public Image Ltd.,
Qualms,
Harry Pussy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Y Pants,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
Bob Dylan,
Magazine,
Tres Demented,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Suicide,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Don Cherry,
Soft Cell,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Maleditus Sound,
Crime,
the Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Music Machine,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Neu!,
T.S.O.L.,
The Toasters,
Gong,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.