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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Spoonie Gee to the crunk 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Yaz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cramps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Ponytail,
The Blues Magoos,
Cybotron,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
The Blackbyrds,
Average White Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Model 500,
Vainqueur,
Prince Buster,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
New Age Steppers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
Duran Duran,
Mars,
Joyce Sims,
David McCallum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Bobby Sherman,
Aswad,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Fela Kuti,
Mandrill,
Trumans Water,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Standells,
Bobby Byrd,
Subhumans,
The Searchers,
New Order,
Q and Not U,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
The Monks,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
Country Teasers,
Skriet,
cv313,
John Cale,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.