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 New Zealand and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Association to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Albert Ayler,
Ten City,
Television,
Zero Boys,
Second Layer,
Delta 5,
Blossom Toes,
Ronnie Foster,
Excepter,
June Days,
Prince Buster,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
OOIOO,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Kenny Larkin,
David McCallum,
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
the Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
Sound Behaviour,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Byrd,
Bill Near,
Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Minutemen,
The Trojans,
Outsiders,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide,
The Remains,
Dead Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
Quando Quango,
X-Ray Spex,
Stetsasonic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lalann,
Sight & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spandau Ballet,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gladiators,
Simply Red,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gabor Szabo,
Rotary Connection,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Prunes,
Fear,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.