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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Leaves to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! 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?
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
Blossom Toes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Donny Hathaway,
Rakim,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
China Crisis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
Sandy B,
Janne Schatter,
Minutemen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Faust,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
The Buckinghams,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Newcleus,
Al Stewart,
Rekid,
Stereo Dub,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ice-T,
The Gladiators,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tears for Fears,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Trumans Water,
Anthony Braxton,
UT,
Negative Approach,
Spoonie Gee,
Quando Quango,
John Lydon,
X-101,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Basic Channel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.