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 Cape Verde and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Swell Maps to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Accadde A,
Scratch Acid,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
Ultra Naté,
Black Moon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Visage,
The Offenders,
The Gories,
Nas,
Suburban Knight,
Ultravox,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
The Mummies,
Arthur Verocai,
Television,
Gong,
AZ,
Can,
Tim Buckley,
Isaac Hayes,
Echospace,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
10cc,
The Names,
Reuben Wilson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boredoms,
Monks,
The Vogues,
Joe Smooth,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Index,
Metal Thangz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
Groovy Waters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Slits,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.