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 East Timor and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Kerri Chandler to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
Albert Ayler,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Bill Wells,
Moby Grape,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Anthony Braxton,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
10cc,
Porter Ricks,
Donny Hathaway,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jacques Brel,
Sandy B,
The Blues Magoos,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monks,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
The Offenders,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Deakin,
Roger Hodgson,
Joey Negro,
Accadde A,
Bronski Beat,
Black Bananas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oneida,
Aswad,
PIL,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Lydon,
Kayak,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Royal Trux,
Qualms,
AZ,
Index,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.