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 Gabon and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Shoche to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Slave,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Style,
Marvin Gaye,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
Theoretical Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Nico,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tim Buckley,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
Mr. Review,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Bourne,
Main Source,
Cheater Slicks,
Moss Icon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hardrive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gong,
Masters at Work,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jandek,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pop Group,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pylon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Zero Boys,
Talk Talk,
The Gap Band,
Pulsallama,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
Malaria!,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Suicide,
U.S. Maple,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Massinfluence,
David Axelrod,
The Cure,
Dark Day,
Colin Newman,
Crash Course in Science,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.