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 Japan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Little Man to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
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,
Hashim,
Tomorrow,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
Rod Modell,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Royal Trux,
The Invisible,
Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
Lungfish,
Lalann,
Excepter,
Duran Duran,
Sällskapet,
Sarah Menescal,
Arab on Radar,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pulsallama,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Warren Ellis,
The Moody Blues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David Axelrod,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
Shoche,
CMW,
The Smoke,
Smog,
Ken Boothe,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amazonics,
The Gladiators,
Chris Corsano,
Marvin Gaye,
Eurythmics,
Ponytail,
The Star Department,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fall,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.