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 Latvia and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
The Walker Brothers,
Unwound,
Absolute Body Control,
FM Einheit,
The Misunderstood,
Glenn Branca,
Cheater Slicks,
Arcadia,
Cluster,
Moby Grape,
Marmalade,
The Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Barry Ungar,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cecil Taylor,
New Age Steppers,
Maurizio,
Erykah Badu,
Make Up,
Nils Olav,
The Cramps,
Duran Duran,
Circle Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Anthony Braxton,
Second Layer,
D'Angelo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Babytalk,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Sam Rivers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dark Day,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Easy Going,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-102,
John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Das Ding,
F. McDonald,
Freddie Wadling,
Deadbeat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.