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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Y Pants,
Bill Wells,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gories,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Adolescents,
Johnny Clarke,
The Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Drive Like Jehu,
10cc,
Ken Boothe,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Michelle Simonal,
Quadrant,
Marvin Gaye,
Camouflage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mo-Dettes,
The Last Poets,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Darondo,
Warren Ellis,
Matthew Bourne,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
Aaron Thompson,
Mandrill,
Camberwell Now,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter and Kerry,
Desert Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reagan Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Shuggie Otis,
Sonic Youth,
The Pop Group,
Eurythmics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joey Negro,
John Cale,
Sparks,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.