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 Sweden and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Little Man to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dennis Brown,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Khruangbin,
Scratch Acid,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
Y Pants,
The Cowsills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Metal Thangz,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Starr,
EPMD,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zapp,
Gichy Dan,
Technova,
Wings,
Von Mondo,
KRS-One,
OOIOO,
Kurtis Blow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tim Buckley,
Royal Trux,
Darondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Johnny Clarke,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
MC5,
Rotary Connection,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
Grauzone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
Dual Sessions,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.