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 Colombia and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Nile Rodgers 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 T.S.O.L. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Vogues,
This Heat,
Magma,
Derrick Morgan,
The Neon Judgement,
Tommy Roe,
Vainqueur,
The Pretty Things,
Soul II Soul,
These Immortal Souls,
Ituana,
Peter & Gordon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
Heaven 17,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Christie,
Shuggie Otis,
The Five Americans,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Mad Mike,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New York Dolls,
a-ha,
10cc,
FM Einheit,
Bauhaus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Essential Logic,
The Real Kids,
Tres Demented,
Roger Hodgson,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liliput,
ABC,
Neil Young,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sarah Menescal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Osbourne,
Parry Music,
Excepter,
Aloha Tigers,
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
48th St. Collective,
Brass Construction,
The Invisible,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.