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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Blancmange to the electroclash 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Infiniti,
Rites of Spring,
The Misunderstood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Doors,
Parry Music,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Marc Almond,
The Zeros,
Organ,
Moss Icon,
Pylon,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
KRS-One,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
Easy Going,
The Golliwogs,
Pantaleimon,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Remains,
Big Daddy Kane,
Flipper,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Isaac Hayes,
Drexciya,
The Five Americans,
Minor Threat,
Porter Ricks,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cure,
Agitation Free,
The Knickerbockers,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
Black Flag,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
Leonard Cohen,
Mo-Dettes,
Newcleus,
Matthew Halsall,
Lower 48,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.