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 Mongolia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the electroclash 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suburban Knight,
Popol Vuh,
The Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
The Wake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Isaac Hayes,
Josef K,
Blake Baxter,
Vainqueur,
The Residents,
Ohio Players,
X-102,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funkadelic,
Mad Mike,
Ronan,
Judy Mowatt,
Yazoo,
Bobby Byrd,
Marine Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Iggy Pop,
X-101,
Marmalade,
Eve St. Jones,
Gong,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Joyce Sims,
The Young Rascals,
Fear,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül,
Sonic Youth,
Sällskapet,
Cecil Taylor,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kaleidoscope,
Magma,
Terry Callier,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Brothers Johnson,
Graham Central Station,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Leaves,
Nas,
Subhumans,
Malaria!,
Crime,
Heaven 17,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.