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 Kiribati and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 The Seeds 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Robert Hood,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Music Machine,
Rotary Connection,
The Sonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Sex Pistols,
Blake Baxter,
The Golliwogs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mandrill,
Flipper,
Rapeman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Cybotron,
The Busters,
Peter and Kerry,
Fatback Band,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Das Ding,
Warsaw,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Easy Going,
Barclay James Harvest,
Spandau Ballet,
The Leaves,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
James White and The Blacks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Accadde A,
Masters at Work,
Babytalk,
The Mojo Men,
Talk Talk,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
H. Thieme,
The Stooges,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Quantec,
Roxette,
The Durutti Column,
Qualms,
Howard Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.