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 Kuwait 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Young Marble Giants to the grunge 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
Patti Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bob Dylan,
Althea and Donna,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sparks,
Supertramp,
Drexciya,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Flipper,
Lindisfarne,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Lynne,
Soulsonic Force,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
Ice-T,
The United States of America,
Moss Icon,
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Blancmange,
Sällskapet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed,
Blake Baxter,
Wolf Eyes,
MC5,
Au Pairs,
Guru Guru,
Q and Not U,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
These Immortal Souls,
R.M.O.,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
La Düsseldorf,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
Ten City,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eden Ahbez,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.