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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Selecter to the dance 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
Pantytec,
Delta 5,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gichy Dan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt,
Reuben Wilson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Surgeon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ornette Coleman,
Susan Cadogan,
Prince Buster,
The Star Department,
The Angels of Light,
The Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül,
Howard Jones,
Amazonics,
Brick,
Section 25,
Kayak,
Cluster,
Massinfluence,
Cecil Taylor,
Letta Mbulu,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Q and Not U,
The Sonics,
This Heat,
Audionom,
H. Thieme,
Ken Boothe,
Absolute Body Control,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul II Soul,
Duran Duran,
David McCallum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bush Tetras,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.