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 Jamaica and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Quando Quango to the crunk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minor Threat,
Rod Modell,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stetsasonic,
Rotary Connection,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sonics,
Niagra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Steve Hackett,
Whodini,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Byron Stingily,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crime,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Quadrant,
Dark Day,
The Mojo Men,
The Doors,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flipper,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The J.B.'s,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Spandau Ballet,
Sound Behaviour,
Kas Product,
Donny Hathaway,
Deepchord,
Patti Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
The Toasters,
Sarah Menescal,
Cecil Taylor,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Coltrane,
Wings,
The Gories,
Excepter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.