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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Halsall,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Qualms,
Audionom,
Depeche Mode,
Moebius,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
K-Klass,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Das Ding,
Arcadia,
H. Thieme,
Mark Hollis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gabor Szabo,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
Fear,
Spandau Ballet,
ABBA,
the Association,
Trumans Water,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Todd Rundgren,
Brass Construction,
Lalann,
The Selecter,
Peter & Gordon,
Simply Red,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Eric Dolphy,
Infiniti,
The Barracudas,
The Modern Lovers,
Joy Division,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Public Enemy,
UT,
Procol Harum,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Doobie Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Warsaw,
Funky Four + One,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.