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 Ghana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Intrusion to the crunk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rakim,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Glenn Branca,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mars,
Amon Düül II,
The Moleskins,
Chris & Cosey,
D'Angelo,
Scan 7,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Techniques,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roger Hodgson,
Warsaw,
Stiv Bators,
The Standells,
Ultravox,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lindisfarne,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
Von Mondo,
Albert Ayler,
Skarface,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Sonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Scott Walker,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Hood,
the Bar-Kays,
This Heat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Saccharine Trust,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Age Steppers,
Suicide,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.