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 Lesotho and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boredoms to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
These Immortal Souls,
Mr. Review,
Gong,
The Gories,
Public Image Ltd.,
Chrome,
Skaos,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
Bluetip,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Cameo,
Silicon Teens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cheater Slicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Michelle Simonal,
Cal Tjader,
The Busters,
Derrick May,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Copeland,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hasil Adkins,
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
Wasted Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Scott Walker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oblivians,
Soft Cell,
World's Most,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
The Seeds,
Q65,
Index,
Nils Olav,
Model 500,
Fela Kuti,
The Skatalites,
Half Japanese,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.