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 Libya and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the dance 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Gang Green,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oneida,
The Searchers,
Oblivians,
Sight & Sound,
Fat Boys,
KRS-One,
Letta Mbulu,
Gabor Szabo,
Faraquet,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Clarke,
Wally Richardson,
Technova,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Minor Threat,
Altered Images,
John Holt,
T.S.O.L.,
The Last Poets,
Ultimate Spinach,
These Immortal Souls,
The Star Department,
The Moody Blues,
Thompson Twins,
Adolescents,
Cecil Taylor,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
Stereo Dub,
Second Layer,
The Five Americans,
T. Rex,
Flipper,
Suicide,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cheater Slicks,
Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Velvet Underground,
June of 44,
Visage,
DJ Style,
Deakin,
The Fuzztones,
The Leaves,
Wings,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Idris Muhammad,
Funkadelic,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.