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 Guyana and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Buckinghams to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Rekid,
Thee Headcoats,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scrapy,
Warsaw,
The Cramps,
Black Sheep,
Livin' Joy,
Simply Red,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Buckinghams,
Fela Kuti,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Womack,
Hoover,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Minnie Riperton,
Lindisfarne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Peter & Gordon,
the Bar-Kays,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Kayak,
Nirvana,
Ten City,
Ornette Coleman,
Crime,
The Cure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Zapp,
Parry Music,
EPMD,
The Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hardrive,
UT,
Iggy Pop,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Icehouse,
Brand Nubian,
The Dirtbombs,
Adolescents,
Nico,
Infiniti,
The Neon Judgement,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.