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 Tonga and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Byron Stingily to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
The Barracudas,
Tubeway Army,
The Slits,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
David McCallum,
Reagan Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sonics,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brass Construction,
Henry Cow,
Soft Cell,
This Heat,
Excepter,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Pussy Galore,
Alphaville,
Swell Maps,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bronski Beat,
Boredoms,
Loose Ends,
Ronnie Foster,
Hardrive,
Harmonia,
Arcadia,
Eddi Front,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
X-102,
The Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Model 500,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Moon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sparks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
The Blackbyrds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
Niagra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves,
Moby Grape,
Trumans Water,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.