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 Bangladesh and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bobby Sherman to the grunge 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Joe Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Associates,
Suicide,
Motorama,
Magma,
Judy Mowatt,
Pagans,
Donny Hathaway,
Todd Terry,
Dawn Penn,
Organ,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Fraelich,
Kayak,
The Young Rascals,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
The Monks,
Pere Ubu,
Chris Corsano,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lakeside,
Susan Cadogan,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Make Up,
These Immortal Souls,
Nirvana,
FM Einheit,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scrapy,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brothers Johnson,
John Foxx,
The Vogues,
Angry Samoans,
The Durutti Column,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Masters at Work,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Byron Stingily,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Womack,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.