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 Belize and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sixth Finger to the disco 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare,
Gang Gang Dance,
10cc,
The Fire Engines,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Teasers,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Association,
Oblivians,
The Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Saccharine Trust,
OOIOO,
Chrome,
Magma,
June Days,
Rotary Connection,
Dawn Penn,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Vogues,
ABBA,
Swell Maps,
Sparks,
KRS-One,
Lyres,
June of 44,
Faust,
DJ Sneak,
Sight & Sound,
Roxette,
The Moody Blues,
Royal Trux,
Minor Threat,
Zapp,
MC5,
Girls At Our Best!,
Godley & Creme,
Agitation Free,
Steve Hackett,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
The Human League,
Don Cherry,
The Move,
The Names,
Nils Olav,
The Moleskins,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Victims,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Barry Ungar,
Gang of Four,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.