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 Taiwan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Tim Buckley,
Pylon,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Y Pants,
The Slits,
Soft Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arab on Radar,
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Arthur Verocai,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masters at Work,
Quadrant,
The Victims,
The Doors,
Organ,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
Skaos,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5,
Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Invisible,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Prince Buster,
The Pretty Things,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
Barrington Levy,
Desert Stars,
Japan,
Second Layer,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
D'Angelo,
Rotary Connection,
Smog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spoonie Gee,
Clear Light,
Dawn Penn,
The Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.