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 Syria and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bush Tetras to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Misunderstood,
Freddie Wadling,
Television,
Q65,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funky Four + One,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Neu!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
Donny Hathaway,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Johnny Clarke,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
AZ,
Tim Buckley,
Lebanon Hanover,
Symarip,
the Soft Cell,
Wire,
The Techniques,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
a-ha,
Main Source,
Youth Brigade,
Franke,
EPMD,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Second Layer,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Moebius,
Camouflage,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
Japan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Mo-Dettes,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Dave Gahan,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ponytail,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agitation Free,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.