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 Kosovo and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soulsonic Force to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Deakin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Malaria!,
Bobby Byrd,
Quadrant,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
Tommy Roe,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bauhaus,
Yellowson,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
Danielle Patucci,
Aural Exciters,
Jacques Brel,
Idris Muhammad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
The Fall,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fad Gadget,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
Arcadia,
Moby Grape,
Howard Jones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Silicon Teens,
Index,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Godley & Creme,
Bang On A Can,
Reuben Wilson,
The Barracudas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Names,
Roger Hodgson,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Byron Stingily,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.