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 Syria and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Boz Scaggs to the grime 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Unwound,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fortunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moby Grape,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas,
Boz Scaggs,
The Beau Brummels,
Quando Quango,
John Foxx,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sarah Menescal,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Wells,
Siglo XX,
Lucky Dragons,
The Star Department,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Hood,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
Ultravox,
Marvin Gaye,
Dual Sessions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
The Cure,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Soft Cell,
The Names,
Fear,
The Slits,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Angels of Light,
The Vogues,
Parry Music,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
The Music Machine,
Guru Guru,
Aaron Thompson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
EPMD,
Gichy Dan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Derrick Morgan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.