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 Senegal and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Urselle to the techno 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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Black Pus,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
KRS-One,
Thompson Twins,
Smog,
Soft Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
Niagra,
Kurtis Blow,
Monks,
LL Cool J,
UT,
H. Thieme,
Ultimate Spinach,
James White and The Blacks,
Parry Music,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sixth Finger,
Underground Resistance,
The Raincoats,
Zero Boys,
Wings,
The Gories,
Minutemen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Grauzone,
Dead Boys,
The Dead C,
the Fania All-Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
Pagans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stockholm Monsters,
One Last Wish,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Visage,
Shoche,
Livin' Joy,
Yellowson,
Talk Talk,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
Eric Dolphy,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.