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 Slovenia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Monks,
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
Warren Ellis,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
The Monks,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
Kas Product,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quantec,
Tears for Fears,
Vainqueur,
The United States of America,
Eve St. Jones,
The Happenings,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moby Grape,
LL Cool J,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
Con Funk Shun,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Golliwogs,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Darondo,
Underground Resistance,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Buckinghams,
The Blackbyrds,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
Shuggie Otis,
Yellowson,
Ronnie Foster,
David McCallum,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.