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 Montenegro and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Malaria! to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dirtbombs,
X-102,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Basic Channel,
Youth Brigade,
Wire,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Juan Atkins,
Hot Snakes,
The Young Rascals,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dead C,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
The Skatalites,
the Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
kango's stein massive,
Blancmange,
Wings,
Charles Mingus,
The Gories,
David Bowie,
Alton Ellis,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
The Busters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Fat Boys,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Chrome,
Massinfluence,
The Mummies,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gong,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Real Kids,
The Happenings,
Liliput,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Q and Not U,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.