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 Brazil and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
The Toasters,
Lower 48,
These Immortal Souls,
Yellowson,
Pantytec,
The Barracudas,
The Motions,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arthur Verocai,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glenn Branca,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Sandy B,
Eddi Front,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
Yaz,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hashim,
Robert Wyatt,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
John Holt,
Matthew Bourne,
ABC,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Deakin,
Idris Muhammad,
Johnny Clarke,
Reuben Wilson,
Babytalk,
The Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Alice Coltrane,
Kaleidoscope,
The Invisible,
Swell Maps,
The Saints,
Shuggie Otis,
Trumans Water,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
UT,
Avey Tare,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slave,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
New Age Steppers,
Tom Boy,
The Happenings,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.