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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tom Boy to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
June of 44,
The Saints,
Niagra,
Scion,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Buckinghams,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Technova,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
Sandy B,
Flash Fearless,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Lou Christie,
Skaos,
kango's stein massive,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Byrd,
Adolescents,
The Black Dice,
Depeche Mode,
John Holt,
Goldenarms,
Ice-T,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Almond,
Bang On A Can,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
Dave Gahan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Flipper,
The Standells,
Main Source,
Alison Limerick,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed,
Cheater Slicks,
Newcleus,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.