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 Philippines and from Milan.
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 Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
John Holt,
Panda Bear,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy Collins,
A Certain Ratio,
Scientists,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rosa Yemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Saints,
Alton Ellis,
The Vogues,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
World's Most,
Janne Schatter,
Dawn Penn,
Girls At Our Best!,
Davy DMX,
Stiv Bators,
Maleditus Sound,
The Pretty Things,
The Litter,
The Real Kids,
T. Rex,
Nirvana,
JFA,
Godley & Creme,
The Divine Comedy,
Gichy Dan,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
Crash Course in Science,
Duran Duran,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Nico,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pylon,
The Neon Judgement,
Bob Dylan,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Shuggie Otis,
Tubeway Army,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Starr,
Slick Rick,
Pagans,
D'Angelo,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.