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 Algeria and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 The Saints to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
The Barracudas,
June of 44,
Agitation Free,
The Martian,
Magazine,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
X-102,
Suicide,
ABC,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Wyatt,
Rakim,
John Holt,
Fat Boys,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blake Baxter,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
L. Decosne,
The Fall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
Jacques Brel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Piero Umiliani,
Blossom Toes,
AZ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
Alice Coltrane,
The Smoke,
Silicon Teens,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Intrusion,
The Angels of Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gong,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Iggy Pop,
Porter Ricks,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.