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 Netherlands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 Lakeside to the techno 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
AZ,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
Inner City,
H. Thieme,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare,
Leonard Cohen,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flipper,
Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
Minny Pops,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
the Germs,
Johnny Osbourne,
E-Dancer,
DNA,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swell Maps,
The Pretty Things,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Funkadelic,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
The Fall,
Altered Images,
Section 25,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minnie Riperton,
Sugar Minott,
Skarface,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nils Olav,
Camberwell Now,
Althea and Donna,
Aural Exciters,
Ossler,
Ultra Naté,
Lee Hazlewood,
Morten Harket,
Joey Negro,
Royal Trux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Trumans Water,
EPMD,
Sonic Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Davy DMX,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.