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 Vietnam and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Suburban Knight to the dance 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Steve Hackett,
Camouflage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
Pylon,
Minor Threat,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Pussy Galore,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neil Young,
Donny Hathaway,
World's Most,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Josef K,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terry Callier,
Bill Near,
Vainqueur,
Oneida,
Yazoo,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
Moby Grape,
Quando Quango,
Magma,
Stiv Bators,
Suburban Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Los Fastidios,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Womack,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül,
D'Angelo,
The Barracudas,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
Intrusion,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Knickerbockers,
Motorama,
Sister Nancy,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.