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 Liberia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Sherman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Fela Kuti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
JFA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Connie Case,
Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
New York Dolls,
Average White Band,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Pantytec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mr. Review,
Audionom,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Steve Hackett,
The Motions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Accadde A,
John Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
H. Thieme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
Ossler,
The Durutti Column,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Freddie Wadling,
Sexual Harrassment,
These Immortal Souls,
Joensuu 1685,
Patti Smith,
Monolake,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wolf Eyes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Anakelly,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Sneak,
Quantec,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.