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 Iran and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joy Division to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Lightning Bolt,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ronnie Foster,
The Trojans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Techniques,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Niagra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Maurizio,
The Fuzztones,
Scion,
Robert Hood,
Kas Product,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mummies,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ituana,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Saccharine Trust,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lucky Dragons,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Kinks,
The Stooges,
The Standells,
The Seeds,
Idris Muhammad,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young,
The Young Rascals,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
Archie Shepp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry's Kids,
The Names,
Bootsy Collins,
Morten Harket,
Loose Ends,
Letta Mbulu,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.