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 Eritrea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Star Department to the dance 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra,
Toni Rubio,
Agent Orange,
The Cramps,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
Infiniti,
Sugar Minott,
Darondo,
The Vogues,
Graham Central Station,
Sixth Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Motorama,
Duran Duran,
LL Cool J,
Bad Manners,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brand Nubian,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
The Offenders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Pagans,
Groovy Waters,
Ultravox,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
FM Einheit,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy Collins,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sight & Sound,
Black Moon,
DJ Sneak,
Inner City,
Monolake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dirtbombs,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camberwell Now,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Isaac Hayes,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.