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 Spain and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pantaleimon to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlback,
Masters at Work,
Peter and Kerry,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Bowie,
Henry Cow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Moebius,
Grey Daturas,
Cybotron,
T. Rex,
Yusef Lateef,
EPMD,
Reuben Wilson,
Talk Talk,
Brand Nubian,
The Knickerbockers,
Sam Rivers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Zapp,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
Lee Hazlewood,
Magma,
Neu!,
Lou Reed,
The Grass Roots,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Bananas,
The Pretty Things,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
Lalann,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Enemy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The New Christs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vainqueur,
New Age Steppers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.