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 Russia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Bad Manners to the crunk 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
The Cowsills,
Spandau Ballet,
Shoche,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Circle Jerks,
10cc,
Byron Stingily,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
CMW,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
The Velvet Underground,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Scratch Acid,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Second Layer,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lightning Bolt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Funky Four + One,
Clear Light,
Scion,
Grauzone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Darondo,
The Moleskins,
The Gladiators,
Minny Pops,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Thompson Twins,
OOIOO,
Agitation Free,
The Mojo Men,
The Last Poets,
Panda Bear,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
Ice-T,
Dorothy Ashby,
Loose Ends,
X-101,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.