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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 Scott Walker to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vainqueur,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cal Tjader,
48th St. Collective,
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Whodini,
The Searchers,
Boz Scaggs,
Unwound,
The Barracudas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
Althea and Donna,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers,
Television,
Stiv Bators,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
Yellowson,
the Human League,
cv313,
Eric Dolphy,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
Essential Logic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blackbyrds,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smoke,
Bill Near,
Sandy B,
JFA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-102,
Goldenarms,
The Kinks,
Circle Jerks,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
Lightning Bolt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.