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 Luxembourg and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Chris Corsano to the punk 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Arcadia,
Gang Green,
Urselle,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
cv313,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
Ronan,
Television,
Darondo,
Clear Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
New Age Steppers,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
Kool Moe Dee,
D'Angelo,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chris Corsano,
Man Parrish,
R.M.O.,
Alton Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The United States of America,
Mark Hollis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cecil Taylor,
China Crisis,
Youth Brigade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Colin Newman,
Peter and Kerry,
Grauzone,
Ten City,
Franke,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agitation Free,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Das Ding,
PIL,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Archie Shepp,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
Bluetip,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.