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 Japan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Agitation Free,
Tomorrow,
JFA,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris & Cosey,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arab on Radar,
K-Klass,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlback,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
Blossom Toes,
Slave,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sixth Finger,
The Trojans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
Masters at Work,
Idris Muhammad,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
Althea and Donna,
Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Mills,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
Section 25,
Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Half Japanese,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Cluster,
Hoover,
The Gladiators,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
Saccharine Trust,
Todd Terry,
Symarip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Seeds,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.