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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Music Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
The Mojo Men,
The Real Kids,
Khruangbin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aaron Thompson,
Barrington Levy,
Parry Music,
H. Thieme,
Animal Collective,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Max Romeo,
The Seeds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moss Icon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moby Grape,
Sarah Menescal,
Blossom Toes,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
Howard Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Trumans Water,
Sandy B,
Jeru the Damaja,
Donald Byrd,
OOIOO,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Zeros,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nick Fraelich,
Mandrill,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
The Martian,
Bob Dylan,
T.S.O.L.,
Wings,
Steve Hackett,
Sight & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Clear Light,
The Count Five,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
cv313,
Throbbing Gristle,
Junior Murvin,
Pagans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Reuben Wilson,
Jacques Brel,
Pussy Galore,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.