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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 U.S. Maple to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deepchord,
Youth Brigade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delta 5,
Soulsonic Force,
Hot Snakes,
The Evens,
Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ituana,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul II Soul,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zapp,
Donald Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
Sandy B,
Guru Guru,
Godley & Creme,
Neil Young,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Piero Umiliani,
Drexciya,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Neu!,
Moby Grape,
The Residents,
Whodini,
Charles Mingus,
Prince Buster,
The Cure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Banda Bassotti,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Tremeloes,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
Scratch Acid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dirtbombs,
The Selecter,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.