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 Norway and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Neil Young to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy,
Symarip,
E-Dancer,
The Durutti Column,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Aural Exciters,
Massinfluence,
Toni Rubio,
Tom Boy,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Masters at Work,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alison Limerick,
Joey Negro,
Banda Bassotti,
Organ,
Jacques Brel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Tres Demented,
Little Man,
The Star Department,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aaron Thompson,
Dawn Penn,
Alton Ellis,
The Offenders,
June Days,
Crime,
Lou Christie,
ABC,
The Beau Brummels,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bluetip,
X-101,
Hardrive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Urselle,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.