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 Yemen and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Trumans Water to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
the Normal,
The Velvet Underground,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
Half Japanese,
Warsaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gories,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Marine Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Supertramp,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
Lalann,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skaos,
Lower 48,
Fatback Band,
Panda Bear,
Lindisfarne,
Gang Starr,
Laurel Aitken,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
the Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
Q and Not U,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed,
Intrusion,
The Zeros,
The Gun Club,
Make Up,
Godley & Creme,
Roxy Music,
Jacob Miller,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scientists,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers,
Hashim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Von Mondo,
Yaz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.