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 Algeria and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Move,
The Cure,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Slick Rick,
Deadbeat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wally Richardson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Panda Bear,
Desert Stars,
The Cowsills,
Japan,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
Visage,
Max Romeo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
Deepchord,
Cecil Taylor,
DNA,
Yusef Lateef,
Tim Buckley,
The Searchers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Walker Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Basic Channel,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
Mars,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spandau Ballet,
U.S. Maple,
Nik Kershaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mantronix,
Sandy B,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.