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 Pakistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the dance 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
The Moody Blues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Barry Ungar,
CMW,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Copeland,
Desert Stars,
Mad Mike,
Agent Orange,
Minutemen,
Masters at Work,
Aloha Tigers,
K-Klass,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dawn Penn,
Crime,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
Main Source,
Wire,
The Doors,
Lalann,
The Barracudas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
Altered Images,
DNA,
Yellowson,
Kayak,
Pagans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Basic Channel,
Animal Collective,
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
Pulsallama,
Derrick Morgan,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader,
Rakim,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
Soulsonic Force,
Underground Resistance,
Au Pairs,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.