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 Sierra Leone and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lightning Bolt to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Remains,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
Aswad,
Niagra,
The Sonics,
Qualms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
Maleditus Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Rapeman,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
Newcleus,
The Cure,
Bauhaus,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Music Machine,
Vainqueur,
Subhumans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
Groovy Waters,
T. Rex,
Cal Tjader,
The Seeds,
Make Up,
The Doors,
the Germs,
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lungfish,
The Misunderstood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minnie Riperton,
Oneida,
Ice-T,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dead Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anthony Braxton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Moss Icon,
Alice Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.