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 Botswana and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Lightning Bolt,
Roxette,
Monks,
Man Parrish,
Talk Talk,
The Gun Club,
Anthony Braxton,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minor Threat,
Joey Negro,
The Star Department,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
Ken Boothe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Eric Copeland,
Quantec,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hashim,
Make Up,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
UT,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
The Last Poets,
The Techniques,
Maleditus Sound,
Mandrill,
Fad Gadget,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Newcleus,
Junior Murvin,
DJ Sneak,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Henry Cow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fall,
Ponytail,
Saccharine Trust,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Five Americans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.