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 Botswana and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hardrive,
Ten City,
Ituana,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Doors,
Sun City Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eve St. Jones,
Dennis Brown,
Drive Like Jehu,
Liliput,
Neil Young,
Bad Manners,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Evens,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Prince Buster,
The Saints,
Stiv Bators,
Judy Mowatt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deadbeat,
Ice-T,
Susan Cadogan,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
Loose Ends,
Tres Demented,
Harmonia,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Byrd,
Boredoms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wasted Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
Das Ding,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.