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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Magma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scientists,
The Golliwogs,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
Cal Tjader,
KRS-One,
Joy Division,
Eden Ahbez,
Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brothers Johnson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flipper,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Das Ding,
Marc Almond,
Whodini,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tubeway Army,
Sun City Girls,
Ituana,
New Order,
Eric Copeland,
The Count Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scrapy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Sound Behaviour,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantytec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Popol Vuh,
The Raincoats,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Gong,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Rakim,
Con Funk Shun,
Sam Rivers,
Fluxion,
Archie Shepp,
The Cure,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Hood,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scott Walker,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.