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 Morocco and from Stockholm.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Fall to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
Excepter,
Aswad,
Newcleus,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
Motorama,
The Sonics,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Section 25,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gastr Del Sol,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sam Rivers,
Tres Demented,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
Gabor Szabo,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
The Slackers,
The Star Department,
8 Eyed Spy,
Y Pants,
Scratch Acid,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül II,
Cecil Taylor,
John Holt,
Neu!,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Parrish,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Rundgren,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers,
H. Thieme,
John Lydon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
Q65,
Cal Tjader,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
New Order,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Heaven 17,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.