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 Bolivia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Don Cherry to the crunk 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Surgeon,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
Letta Mbulu,
Stereo Dub,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
New Order,
Harmonia,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skarface,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Green,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Patti Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
Hasil Adkins,
The Grass Roots,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Busters,
Pussy Galore,
Brass Construction,
The Smiths,
Blossom Toes,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
X-102,
Don Cherry,
MDC,
Lyres,
Black Pus,
Fad Gadget,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Soft Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
PIL,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
Boogie Down Productions,
Motorama,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lower 48,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warsaw,
Barbara Tucker,
The Remains,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.