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 Israel 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Dave Clark Five to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cowsills,
Silicon Teens,
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Arcadia,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
Babytalk,
The Toasters,
The Count Five,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Wells,
Arab on Radar,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
John Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Banda Bassotti,
Alton Ellis,
Desert Stars,
Half Japanese,
Darondo,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Almond,
New Order,
The Detroit Cobras,
cv313,
Robert Görl,
Barry Ungar,
Lebanon Hanover,
Theoretical Girls,
Outsiders,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ten City,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erasure,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Rod Modell,
The Knickerbockers,
Reuben Wilson,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nirvana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Letta Mbulu,
ABC,
Avey Tare,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.