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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 T. Rex to the funk 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Matthew Halsall,
Suicide,
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television,
Make Up,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
David McCallum,
Negative Approach,
Basic Channel,
The Gladiators,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Sun City Girls,
Minny Pops,
Alton Ellis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
PIL,
The Saints,
Fugazi,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Görl,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Pus,
Gang Starr,
The New Christs,
The Cowsills,
Ice-T,
Jacques Brel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Byron Stingily,
Oblivians,
Wolf Eyes,
Livin' Joy,
The Pretty Things,
Soul II Soul,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alice Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Kurtis Blow,
The Human League,
New York Dolls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Das Ding,
The Gories,
Tropical Tobacco,
Al Stewart,
Lindisfarne,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Christie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Godley & Creme,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.