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 Panama and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Modern Lovers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
The Young Rascals,
Carl Craig,
Morten Harket,
Erasure,
Flamin' Groovies,
The United States of America,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wings,
Unrelated Segments,
Cal Tjader,
Blancmange,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stetsasonic,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry's Kids,
Skaos,
Max Romeo,
Nick Fraelich,
the Soft Cell,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warsaw,
The Moleskins,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
The Remains,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Juan Atkins,
Darondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The American Breed,
T.S.O.L.,
Barbara Tucker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gabor Szabo,
Mo-Dettes,
John Foxx,
Nik Kershaw,
Aswad,
The Skatalites,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crash Course in Science,
The Stooges,
Interpol,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minny Pops,
The Modern Lovers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Model 500,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.