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 Bhutan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Pretty Things,
Ultravox,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABC,
the Bar-Kays,
Half Japanese,
The Cure,
Parry Music,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cal Tjader,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Osbourne,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
Gang Green,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Style,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacques Brel,
Cybotron,
Gang Starr,
Ronnie Foster,
Junior Murvin,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
David Axelrod,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
48th St. Collective,
Boogie Down Productions,
Public Enemy,
Spandau Ballet,
Girls At Our Best!,
The American Breed,
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Vogues,
Excepter,
Soft Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Warren Ellis,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crime,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.