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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Gil Scott Heron to the jazz 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dual Sessions,
The Smoke,
Crispy Ambulance,
MC5,
Minny Pops,
Talk Talk,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Pulsallama,
Alice Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Don Cherry,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cure,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
World's Most,
La Düsseldorf,
Severed Heads,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reagan Youth,
Index,
Flipper,
Rites of Spring,
Nils Olav,
Jerry's Kids,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Sarah Menescal,
DNA,
Anthony Braxton,
Television Personalities,
The Monochrome Set,
Average White Band,
China Crisis,
Audionom,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Leonard Cohen,
Prince Buster,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spandau Ballet,
Andrew Hill,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.