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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
Panda Bear,
Sixth Finger,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Invisible,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dead Boys,
Terry Callier,
Country Teasers,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Pus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bronski Beat,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Darondo,
Donald Byrd,
Section 25,
The Index,
The Busters,
Joy Division,
Joey Negro,
Scratch Acid,
Bootsy Collins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Slits,
The Mummies,
The Young Rascals,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
The Move,
Dawn Penn,
Ohio Players,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Skatalites,
Nico,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blancmange,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
Cheater Slicks,
Patti Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fugazi,
The Offenders,
Supertramp,
Robert Hood,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.