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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Warren Ellis to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Suicide,
The United States of America,
Michelle Simonal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
This Heat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cymande,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Animal Collective,
Half Japanese,
Faust,
Andrew Hill,
Japan,
Robert Görl,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Christie,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Colin Newman,
Sugar Minott,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Warsaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Juan Atkins,
Faraquet,
Bill Wells,
Underground Resistance,
The Velvet Underground,
The Walker Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Make Up,
the Bar-Kays,
Alphaville,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Reed,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Skriet,
Malaria!,
John Lydon,
Sarah Menescal,
Simply Red,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cowsills,
Idris Muhammad,
Accadde A,
Ohio Players,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.