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 New Zealand and from Delhi.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wolf Eyes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flash Fearless,
Procol Harum,
Dawn Penn,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
Jacob Miller,
Joy Division,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Groovy Waters,
Reuben Wilson,
Scion,
Inner City,
Arthur Verocai,
The Divine Comedy,
X-102,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Gichy Dan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Happenings,
Urselle,
Byron Stingily,
Quantec,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Neon Judgement,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Lydon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Infiniti,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rufus Thomas,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
Yusef Lateef,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Evens,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Bar-Kays,
Pere Ubu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mandrill,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
Delta 5,
Pantytec,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
The Pop Group,
the Germs,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Connie Case,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.