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 Mauritania and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Q and Not U,
Marine Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drexciya,
David Bowie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Wally Richardson,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül II,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Sonic Youth,
cv313,
UT,
Theoretical Girls,
Minny Pops,
the Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Erykah Badu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
Black Bananas,
Warren Ellis,
Connie Case,
Danielle Patucci,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dave Clark Five,
Byron Stingily,
Grauzone,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
The Tremeloes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
Crime,
The Searchers,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
ABC,
Black Sheep,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Bourne,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.