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 Benin and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New York Dolls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
The Dead C,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
Von Mondo,
The Durutti Column,
Bush Tetras,
The Vogues,
Kaleidoscope,
Ronan,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
The Pop Group,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
Barrington Levy,
UT,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
The Doors,
The Standells,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angry Samoans,
Au Pairs,
MC5,
Johnny Clarke,
Eurythmics,
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
La Düsseldorf,
The Wake,
Motorama,
Kenny Larkin,
The Associates,
Lucky Dragons,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Sarah Menescal,
Shuggie Otis,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Newcleus,
Oneida,
Scan 7,
Marine Girls,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
The Move,
Amon Düül II,
The Selecter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pylon,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.