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 Greece and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Byron Stingily to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra 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?
The Fuzztones,
Patti Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Moby Grape,
The Count Five,
Section 25,
Grey Daturas,
Public Enemy,
Marmalade,
The Buckinghams,
The Cowsills,
AZ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Green,
Mr. Review,
Anakelly,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quantec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eddi Front,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Jacques Brel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Smog,
John Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dawn Penn,
The Real Kids,
Heaven 17,
KRS-One,
Intrusion,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Tom Boy,
Country Teasers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Colin Newman,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
kango's stein massive,
Bush Tetras,
Delta 5,
Skaos,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light,
Black Pus,
Barrington Levy,
Tim Buckley,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
China Crisis,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.