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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Lou Reed 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 Traffic Nightmare 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Durutti Column,
Lucky Dragons,
Lakeside,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ken Boothe,
Kurtis Blow,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
New Order,
E-Dancer,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
Sixth Finger,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
Scrapy,
Amazonics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
JFA,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Blancmange,
The Pretty Things,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heaven 17,
Kerrie Biddell,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magazine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
The Zeros,
Mantronix,
Howard Jones,
R.M.O.,
Warren Ellis,
Easy Going,
Qualms,
The Birthday Party,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Parrish,
Half Japanese,
T.S.O.L.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
Jawbox,
Al Stewart,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.