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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Shoche,
Eric Dolphy,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Five Americans,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
Altered Images,
a-ha,
Moss Icon,
Rotary Connection,
Harpers Bizarre,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Fatback Band,
The United States of America,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tears for Fears,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q65,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Al Stewart,
World's Most,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
Malaria!,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Ice-T,
Yazoo,
Vladislav Delay,
Amon Düül II,
The Residents,
The Fugs,
Amazonics,
Scan 7,
Crooked Eye,
The Move,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.