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 Peru and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Normal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Victims,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
The Raincoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Starr,
The Divine Comedy,
Bluetip,
The Slits,
cv313,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
Mars,
Black Moon,
The Gun Club,
The Dirtbombs,
Mantronix,
Kurtis Blow,
One Last Wish,
Lindisfarne,
Scrapy,
La Düsseldorf,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rosa Yemen,
Skarface,
Erasure,
Swans,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
LL Cool J,
The Cramps,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
the Sonics,
T.S.O.L.,
Dawn Penn,
Darondo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang of Four,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Clarke,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Max Romeo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thompson Twins,
Skaos,
Accadde A,
Basic Channel,
Iggy Pop,
Ohio Players,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.