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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 David McCallum to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
The Mummies,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reagan Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gong,
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Warsaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
OOIOO,
Rapeman,
Robert Hood,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
The Grass Roots,
Wally Richardson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sam Rivers,
Fatback Band,
Hot Snakes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Henry Cow,
Radio Birdman,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Wings,
Nils Olav,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
The Young Rascals,
Dawn Penn,
Drexciya,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
Ronan,
Oblivians,
Black Bananas,
David McCallum,
Charles Mingus,
Popol Vuh,
Roger Hodgson,
Sparks,
The Motions,
Excepter,
The Five Americans,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr,
Kool Moe Dee,
Stetsasonic,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.