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 Italy and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Johnny Clarke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
Erykah Badu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Symarip,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minutemen,
Q65,
The Gap Band,
Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scientists,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
Guru Guru,
Dawn Penn,
The Motions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gong,
The Index,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smoke,
Sugar Minott,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
The Red Krayola,
Reagan Youth,
The Litter,
Moss Icon,
Shoche,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Walker Brothers,
One Last Wish,
Connie Case,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warren Ellis,
Porter Ricks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Martian,
Franke,
Half Japanese,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.