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 Venezuela and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anakelly,
Eli Mardock,
Faust,
Y Pants,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Hill,
Spandau Ballet,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aswad,
Morten Harket,
Letta Mbulu,
Pagans,
Gong,
Delon & Dalcan,
Country Teasers,
The Durutti Column,
Echospace,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bronski Beat,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dark Day,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Swans,
Donny Hathaway,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Starr,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
X-101,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang of Four,
The Star Department,
Skarface,
The Gun Club,
Freddie Wadling,
a-ha,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vladislav Delay,
Susan Cadogan,
Danielle Patucci,
Underground Resistance,
June of 44,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
Fluxion,
Lakeside,
UT,
Rekid,
Visage,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.