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 Nicaragua and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Moleskins to the rock 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Bush Tetras,
The Young Rascals,
Babytalk,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alton Ellis,
Oneida,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Stereo Dub,
Country Teasers,
Freddie Wadling,
The United States of America,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Sheep,
World's Most,
Basic Channel,
UT,
Supertramp,
Stetsasonic,
Harmonia,
Buzzcocks,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
The Standells,
Flash Fearless,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Circle Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Evens,
X-Ray Spex,
The Grass Roots,
Minnie Riperton,
Tres Demented,
Mr. Review,
China Crisis,
10cc,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liliput,
The Toasters,
Siglo XX,
Black Bananas,
The Pretty Things,
Lalo Schifrin,
Technova,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
Jawbox,
T. Rex,
Ice-T,
Deepchord,
The Barracudas,
Lindisfarne,
Grey Daturas,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.