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 Uruguay and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Blues Magoos,
Ohio Players,
Leonard Cohen,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Make Up,
Jeff Mills,
Maleditus Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
Fugazi,
Donny Hathaway,
Bush Tetras,
E-Dancer,
Connie Case,
Barry Ungar,
10cc,
Patti Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
The Dead C,
Rotary Connection,
Whodini,
Sparks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
the Association,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
Neil Young,
The Durutti Column,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
Supertramp,
a-ha,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neu!,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
R.M.O.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Pus,
Brass Construction,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.