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 Costa Rica and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 U.S. Maple to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Lou Christie,
Jacob Miller,
Talk Talk,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
June Days,
Todd Terry,
Swans,
The Leaves,
Maurizio,
Dawn Penn,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wolf Eyes,
MDC,
Easy Going,
Camouflage,
This Heat,
Blancmange,
Shuggie Otis,
Rakim,
The Vogues,
T.S.O.L.,
Steve Hackett,
Qualms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Babytalk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
Yellowson,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fortunes,
Wings,
Lucky Dragons,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül II,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Average White Band,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Japan,
the Association,
Little Man,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Teasers,
Television,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.