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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Rufus Thomas to the crunk 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 The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Ituana,
Bill Near,
Bauhaus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
Kool Moe Dee,
World's Most,
Von Mondo,
X-102,
The Human League,
Drexciya,
Fear,
Mars,
Amazonics,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
Procol Harum,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Wolf Eyes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brass Construction,
Arcadia,
Country Joe & The Fish,
AZ,
Deadbeat,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T.S.O.L.,
Pole,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
Colin Newman,
X-101,
The Dirtbombs,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxy Music,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
Scientists,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monochrome Set,
John Holt,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Simply Red,
Fela Kuti,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.