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 Madagascar and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Cosmic Jokers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Accadde A,
Dual Sessions,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Freddie Wadling,
Popol Vuh,
The Litter,
Nico,
Y Pants,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Flash Fearless,
Prince Buster,
The Monks,
John Cale,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
T. Rex,
Ossler,
Cymande,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Human League,
Robert Wyatt,
Simply Red,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
Magazine,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
the Soft Cell,
the Slits,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
The Fugs,
Cluster,
Depeche Mode,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Cybotron,
The United States of America,
Duran Duran,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Bar-Kays,
Joey Negro,
Deadbeat,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Unrelated Segments,
One Last Wish,
The Cure,
Sugar Minott,
Kas Product,
Sparks,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.