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 Kenya and from New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
The Cure,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mummies,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soulsonic Force,
Half Japanese,
The Dirtbombs,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Nils Olav,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
The Index,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick May,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Don Cherry,
John Coltrane,
Supertramp,
Albert Ayler,
Jacques Brel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pulsallama,
Sonic Youth,
John Holt,
Khruangbin,
Letta Mbulu,
Talk Talk,
The Zeros,
Funky Four + One,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drive Like Jehu,
World's Most,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Marc Almond,
The Skatalites,
Rekid,
The Red Krayola,
Intrusion,
The Pop Group,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.