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 Kuwait and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Dawn Penn to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
B.T. Express,
Mr. Review,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
Minor Threat,
Von Mondo,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
Isaac Hayes,
Surgeon,
The Kinks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Skatalites,
Siglo XX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang of Four,
Lebanon Hanover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agitation Free,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amazonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Barry Ungar,
Rapeman,
The Happenings,
The Misunderstood,
The Fugs,
Erykah Badu,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dave Clark Five,
Altered Images,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Style,
Albert Ayler,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
The Music Machine,
Ludus,
Johnny Clarke,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Qualms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tears for Fears,
The Sound,
Tim Buckley,
June Days,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.