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 Tunisia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Suicide,
The Seeds,
Brick,
Nils Olav,
Gichy Dan,
Camberwell Now,
The Barracudas,
Swell Maps,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fuzztones,
The Moody Blues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
Wasted Youth,
The Index,
The Evens,
MDC,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Q and Not U,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Scion,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Techniques,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yaz,
Cluster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Metal Thangz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Associates,
Black Pus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Magma,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Bob Dylan,
Colin Newman,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Jandek,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Los Fastidios,
The Slackers,
F. McDonald,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.