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 Tajikistan 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the grime 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
The Barracudas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Skriet,
Patti Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aswad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxette,
Tubeway Army,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Alphaville,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
Cluster,
The Vogues,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ponytail,
Bluetip,
Isaac Hayes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Make Up,
Camouflage,
Tommy Roe,
X-102,
Ossler,
KRS-One,
Supertramp,
Das Ding,
Chris Corsano,
Electric Prunes,
Pole,
The Trojans,
Suburban Knight,
June of 44,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
Whodini,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Wyatt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mummies,
Bill Wells,
Adolescents,
Lungfish,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.