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 Laos and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rod Modell to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Cecil Taylor,
X-Ray Spex,
Anthony Braxton,
Tim Buckley,
The Music Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tom Boy,
Pagans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lower 48,
The Walker Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Girls At Our Best!,
Maurizio,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Saints,
Funkadelic,
Whodini,
Buzzcocks,
U.S. Maple,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
The Motions,
Heaven 17,
Tears for Fears,
Chris Corsano,
Tommy Roe,
Aloha Tigers,
Das Ding,
Swans,
June Days,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Electric Prunes,
The Leaves,
Carl Craig,
Charles Mingus,
The Gun Club,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
Nas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
Radiopuhelimet,
Y Pants,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scientists,
Agent Orange,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.