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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Anthony Braxton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nils Olav,
Wings,
Visage,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
The Real Kids,
Pulsallama,
The Angels of Light,
The Blues Magoos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Niagra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pussy Galore,
Bad Manners,
The Mummies,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Beau Brummels,
Gichy Dan,
Reuben Wilson,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jandek,
Suburban Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Cluster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
Duran Duran,
June Days,
Stereo Dub,
Donald Byrd,
X-101,
Scan 7,
Los Fastidios,
Slave,
Qualms,
Mantronix,
The Wake,
Terry Callier,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
Sex Pistols,
Albert Ayler,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wasted Youth,
The Birthday Party,
John Lydon,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter and Kerry,
Talk Talk,
Godley & Creme,
Black Moon,
Joe Finger,
CMW,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.