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 Philippines and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the jazz 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
The Modern Lovers,
Jandek,
Negative Approach,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Simply Red,
Pet Shop Boys,
Colin Newman,
Dead Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Barracudas,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Iggy Pop,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
MC5,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kenny Larkin,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
F. McDonald,
Cluster,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fatback Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Make Up,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
K-Klass,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Surgeon,
Minutemen,
Public Enemy,
Gabor Szabo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Sonics,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moebius,
Young Marble Giants,
Sandy B,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aural Exciters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Hood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Andrew Hill,
Television,
Moss Icon,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.