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 Thailand and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 a-ha to the crunk 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days 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?
The Real Kids,
Archie Shepp,
The Trojans,
Ohio Players,
Mars,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dead C,
Althea and Donna,
B.T. Express,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
Dawn Penn,
Faraquet,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
Black Bananas,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Moebius,
Oblivians,
kango's stein massive,
Parry Music,
a-ha,
Iggy Pop,
Al Stewart,
The Move,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Steve Hackett,
Hashim,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Roxette,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The American Breed,
Danielle Patucci,
Zapp,
Electric Prunes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Happenings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
U.S. Maple,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
One Last Wish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
Siglo XX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.