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 Bhutan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Piero Umiliani to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Idris Muhammad,
Babytalk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Electric Prunes,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mandrill,
Brass Construction,
Aloha Tigers,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
Unwound,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric B and Rakim,
Susan Cadogan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zero Boys,
Outsiders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
The Beau Brummels,
The Motions,
The Doors,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Hood,
Chris & Cosey,
Grauzone,
In Retrospect,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Sherman,
Malaria!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Faust,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Starr,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.