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 Luxembourg and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Fortunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
Silicon Teens,
EPMD,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
Slave,
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker,
Brick,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Warsaw,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
The Leaves,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Residents,
Sixth Finger,
Ultravox,
The Litter,
Skaos,
Man Parrish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Little Man,
Television,
X-Ray Spex,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dave Clark Five,
This Heat,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
Yellowson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
Fat Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
FM Einheit,
Dennis Brown,
The Martian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Negative Approach,
Circle Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scientists,
JFA,
Intrusion,
Pagans,
Soulsonic Force,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.