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 Vietnam and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 Au Pairs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Thee Headcoats,
X-102,
Schoolly D,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Supertramp,
Derrick Morgan,
Crime,
Parry Music,
DJ Style,
Marmalade,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Ludus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eli Mardock,
Letta Mbulu,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warsaw,
Radiohead,
Yaz,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
F. McDonald,
Darondo,
Warren Ellis,
Camouflage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jesper Dahlback,
Charles Mingus,
The Cramps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Y Pants,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
Gang Starr,
Blossom Toes,
Jacob Miller,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joyce Sims,
Drexciya,
Lightning Bolt,
Royal Trux,
The Pretty Things,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nirvana,
The Blackbyrds,
Agitation Free,
John Foxx,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
John Holt,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.