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 Sri Lanka and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Scott Walker to the grunge 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stockholm Monsters,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alphaville,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ralphi Rosario,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Schoolly D,
Magazine,
the Normal,
Lakeside,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
Skaos,
Scott Walker,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Toasters,
Wire,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Rundgren,
Wally Richardson,
Pylon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
JFA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crispy Ambulance,
Procol Harum,
Groovy Waters,
The Blues Magoos,
the Bar-Kays,
Crash Course in Science,
Barbara Tucker,
The Selecter,
Guru Guru,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Pussy Galore,
Blossom Toes,
The Cramps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Albert Ayler,
Dennis Brown,
The Velvet Underground,
Warren Ellis,
MC5,
Gang Green,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.