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 Cameroon and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bobby Byrd to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skaos,
Sugar Minott,
Visage,
the Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Loose Ends,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soul Sonic Force,
In Retrospect,
Eurythmics,
Soft Machine,
Harry Pussy,
The Dead C,
Slick Rick,
Erasure,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Starr,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Lydon,
Skriet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bluetip,
The Modern Lovers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hoover,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Order,
The Selecter,
Masters at Work,
Minnie Riperton,
Ornette Coleman,
The Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Japan,
Ten City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Move,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Audionom,
The Music Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Ultra Naté,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.