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 Netherlands and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 10cc to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Young Marble Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Hill,
E-Dancer,
Hardrive,
Mission of Burma,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
OOIOO,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Radio Birdman,
Lightning Bolt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Albert Ayler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Stooges,
The Busters,
Dark Day,
Deakin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
JFA,
Crooked Eye,
the Germs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roy Ayers,
The Buckinghams,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Green,
Model 500,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Darondo,
Althea and Donna,
The Cramps,
Lucky Dragons,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
DNA,
Soft Machine,
Dennis Brown,
The Techniques,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Selecter,
Arab on Radar,
The Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
Mars,
MC5,
FM Einheit,
Lebanon Hanover,
Magazine,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.