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 Malta and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stooges to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter and Kerry,
Fear,
Con Funk Shun,
Qualms,
Dawn Penn,
The Names,
Brick,
Moss Icon,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
The Invisible,
Amazonics,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Smooth,
Nick Fraelich,
E-Dancer,
La Düsseldorf,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
a-ha,
The Leaves,
Joy Division,
Dark Day,
This Heat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris & Cosey,
Nirvana,
The Victims,
F. McDonald,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sex Pistols,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Near,
Anthony Braxton,
The Gap Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
The Mojo Men,
Man Eating Sloth,
UT,
Al Stewart,
Icehouse,
Matthew Halsall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sparks,
Neu!,
Grey Daturas,
Radio Birdman,
Malaria!,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.