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 Maldives and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Brothers Johnson to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Prince Buster,
Smog,
Monks,
The Gun Club,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Howard Jones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
EPMD,
Livin' Joy,
Eve St. Jones,
cv313,
Icehouse,
The Pop Group,
Make Up,
Radiohead,
The Human League,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Eli Mardock,
Bizarre Inc.,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Cal Tjader,
E-Dancer,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
48th St. Collective,
Index,
Nico,
Slick Rick,
Tears for Fears,
Sällskapet,
Black Flag,
Little Man,
Aloha Tigers,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Stetsasonic,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Nick Fraelich,
Yaz,
R.M.O.,
Anakelly,
The Misunderstood,
UT,
This Heat,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Lynne,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
The Seeds,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
Lower 48,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.