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 Dominica and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Al Stewart to the crunk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Moebius,
Laurel Aitken,
the Swans,
Andrew Hill,
June Days,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fluxion,
AZ,
Echospace,
Alice Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Ronnie Foster,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
Minnie Riperton,
The Monks,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Jandek,
Bobby Byrd,
Ossler,
Faraquet,
Steve Hackett,
The Slits,
Shoche,
Iggy Pop,
The Fuzztones,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Audionom,
Crime,
Thompson Twins,
Cymande,
Mo-Dettes,
Brick,
The Techniques,
Make Up,
Chris Corsano,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-102,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
The Gladiators,
The Gun Club,
Crooked Eye,
Cal Tjader,
Lindisfarne,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.