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 Russia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 The Neon Judgement to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Arthur Verocai,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television,
Sister Nancy,
The Fall,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
Sixth Finger,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
The Smoke,
The Knickerbockers,
Hardrive,
Wally Richardson,
Pulsallama,
David Axelrod,
Deepchord,
Q and Not U,
The Smiths,
FM Einheit,
X-101,
These Immortal Souls,
Mr. Review,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pop Group,
Das Ding,
Loose Ends,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Icehouse,
New Age Steppers,
Soulsonic Force,
The Buckinghams,
Rosa Yemen,
Subhumans,
Warsaw,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Golliwogs,
Organ,
Country Teasers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
Skarface,
Nico,
Kerri Chandler,
Minnie Riperton,
Sight & Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.