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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Trojans,
Monolake,
Dead Boys,
Bronski Beat,
Kurtis Blow,
Dennis Brown,
John Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Guru Guru,
Tres Demented,
Shuggie Otis,
Cecil Taylor,
Skarface,
Harpers Bizarre,
Simply Red,
the Germs,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Joe Smooth,
Dave Gahan,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Matthew Bourne,
Deepchord,
David Axelrod,
Donny Hathaway,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Copeland,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Spoonie Gee,
the Normal,
The Saints,
The Doobie Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
Bob Dylan,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Womack,
Sound Behaviour,
Average White Band,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pagans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.