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 Grenada and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Glenn Branca to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Pere Ubu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Michelle Simonal,
Bad Manners,
Moby Grape,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
OOIOO,
Drive Like Jehu,
Depeche Mode,
Echospace,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
Anthony Braxton,
Swell Maps,
Skriet,
the Association,
The Fall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Television,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
Bobby Womack,
Lungfish,
The Trojans,
Rekid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nas,
Essential Logic,
Jandek,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sex Pistols,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David Axelrod,
Zero Boys,
Darondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Parrish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
Anakelly,
Eric Dolphy,
Thompson Twins,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cramps,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.