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 Slovenia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
the Human League,
The Birthday Party,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Misunderstood,
The Zeros,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radio Birdman,
Ronnie Foster,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Techniques,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
Joyce Sims,
Slave,
Grauzone,
Camberwell Now,
The Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
Television,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Young Marble Giants,
Basic Channel,
Max Romeo,
Steve Hackett,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
Albert Ayler,
Vainqueur,
FM Einheit,
Masters at Work,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
AZ,
Symarip,
Urselle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Monks,
MDC,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Normal,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Christie,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.