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 Korea North and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fall,
Todd Terry,
Prince Buster,
D'Angelo,
Surgeon,
MC5,
Crooked Eye,
Minny Pops,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Machine,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
The Pretty Things,
Malaria!,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
KRS-One,
Boz Scaggs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Holt,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Görl,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mummies,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stockholm Monsters,
Circle Jerks,
Alphaville,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
The Modern Lovers,
Cluster,
The Golliwogs,
The Human League,
Al Stewart,
Morten Harket,
The Remains,
Brick,
Shoche,
K-Klass,
Graham Central Station,
Pere Ubu,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-102,
Glambeats Corp.,
Intrusion,
Slick Rick,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.