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 Chad and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brothers Johnson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Brothers Johnson,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Green,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Erykah Badu,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lyres,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Style,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Organ,
Soul II Soul,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Public Enemy,
Delta 5,
Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stiv Bators,
Faust,
Rapeman,
Moby Grape,
Can,
Fad Gadget,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
Q65,
The Modern Lovers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Minutemen,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
The Slackers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Audionom,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
The Evens,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.