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 Taiwan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tres Demented 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Lalann,
The Pretty Things,
Alton Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
LL Cool J,
The Searchers,
Eve St. Jones,
Eddi Front,
The Leaves,
FM Einheit,
Eurythmics,
Public Enemy,
Cheater Slicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spandau Ballet,
Moss Icon,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Zeros,
Letta Mbulu,
Jandek,
Eric Copeland,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Yusef Lateef,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maurizio,
Main Source,
Susan Cadogan,
Rekid,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monks,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
The Fortunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Procol Harum,
Stetsasonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
June Days,
Tres Demented,
Visage,
A Certain Ratio,
John Lydon,
Camberwell Now,
The Mighty Diamonds,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sonics,
Sparks,
Max Romeo,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.