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 Yemen and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Donald Byrd,
The Leaves,
Althea and Donna,
The Invisible,
Godley & Creme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The United States of America,
ABBA,
Moebius,
Pere Ubu,
Radio Birdman,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
The Victims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Organ,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Womack,
Cymande,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
Lungfish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crispian St. Peters,
KRS-One,
Gong,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gastr Del Sol,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bauhaus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Graham Central Station,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
Sixth Finger,
Visage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
The Real Kids,
Pantytec,
Neil Young,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.