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 Malawi and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Banda Bassotti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Amazonics,
Arab on Radar,
Agitation Free,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Drive Like Jehu,
David McCallum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Sun City Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Banda Bassotti,
June Days,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Neil Young,
Gang of Four,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Junior Murvin,
Talk Talk,
The J.B.'s,
The Golliwogs,
Scrapy,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Ronan,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
Black Flag,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
OOIOO,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
PIL,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Crime,
Amon Düül,
Fear,
Swell Maps,
Cymande,
K-Klass,
Sam Rivers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
Aaron Thompson,
Depeche Mode,
Sonic Youth,
Livin' Joy,
DNA,
Neu!,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Josef K,
The Young Rascals,
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.