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 South Sudan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Danielle Patucci to the punk 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Deakin,
Radiopuhelimet,
FM Einheit,
The Selecter,
Public Image Ltd.,
La Düsseldorf,
Davy DMX,
Harry Pussy,
Ronan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Basic Channel,
Cecil Taylor,
Nation of Ulysses,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers,
Altered Images,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Clarke,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Martian,
Kaleidoscope,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Connie Case,
DJ Sneak,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs,
The Invisible,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
Henry Cow,
Tres Demented,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül II,
June Days,
Masters at Work,
Todd Rundgren,
Barclay James Harvest,
These Immortal Souls,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Wings,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Scan 7,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
Sarah Menescal,
Yellowson,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Aloha Tigers,
a-ha,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.