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 Finland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Alphaville,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
Danielle Patucci,
Tom Boy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Surgeon,
Tubeway Army,
Hot Snakes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Ronan,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
Carl Craig,
Lucky Dragons,
The Associates,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rosa Yemen,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
This Heat,
Rites of Spring,
The Skatalites,
Moebius,
Warsaw,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantytec,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gabor Szabo,
Bush Tetras,
Ponytail,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
Oblivians,
Flamin' Groovies,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
Sixth Finger,
Section 25,
The Doors,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
The Mojo Men,
Trumans Water,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mission of Burma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quando Quango,
Mark Hollis,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.