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 Cameroon and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Mission of Burma,
The Black Dice,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crash Course in Science,
Toni Rubio,
Harry Pussy,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roy Ayers,
Neu!,
Fatback Band,
The Smiths,
Funky Four + One,
Patti Smith,
Royal Trux,
Desert Stars,
the Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
Rod Modell,
Soulsonic Force,
The Golliwogs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television Personalities,
Blancmange,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
Tom Boy,
Sam Rivers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Machine,
DNA,
Hot Snakes,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott Heron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Terry,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Los Fastidios,
Metal Thangz,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Sherman,
Skarface,
Gichy Dan,
The Move,
Black Pus,
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.