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 Nigeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the electroclash 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Anthony Braxton,
The Zeros,
Jacob Miller,
Nico,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sam Rivers,
Eli Mardock,
Adolescents,
Pylon,
Scrapy,
K-Klass,
Barrington Levy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonic Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Electric Prunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Skatalites,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ronnie Foster,
Dual Sessions,
Faraquet,
the Normal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül II,
The Smoke,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
the Germs,
Sällskapet,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Christie,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
The Barracudas,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Arcadia,
AZ,
The Monochrome Set,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter,
Scott Walker,
Severed Heads,
Panda Bear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Technova,
Jeff Lynne,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.