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 San Marino and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donny Hathaway to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
10cc,
E-Dancer,
Roxy Music,
David McCallum,
Interpol,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Stooges,
F. McDonald,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sällskapet,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cal Tjader,
OOIOO,
Rapeman,
the Normal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Ronan,
The Black Dice,
Lower 48,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gories,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spandau Ballet,
A Certain Ratio,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
Cymande,
Nation of Ulysses,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacques Brel,
The Martian,
Sam Rivers,
the Sonics,
Mission of Burma,
Intrusion,
Peter and Kerry,
X-102,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti 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.