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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 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 Nik Kershaw to the grime 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Babytalk,
Lou Christie,
DJ Sneak,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
The Smiths,
The Blues Magoos,
EPMD,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Pus,
Dennis Brown,
the Human League,
Lou Reed,
Royal Trux,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
Moby Grape,
Marshall Jefferson,
Model 500,
Wings,
The Birthday Party,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
The Names,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Toasters,
The Durutti Column,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Alice Coltrane,
Television,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bootsy Collins,
DNA,
Ossler,
Neu!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dirtbombs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang On A Can,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
Colin Newman,
Subhumans,
The Techniques,
Hot Snakes,
The Invisible,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.