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 Senegal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb 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 Grandmaster Flash to the electroclash 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
cv313,
Robert Hood,
a-ha,
Suicide,
Matthew Halsall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Prince Buster,
Half Japanese,
Siglo XX,
The New Christs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
Underground Resistance,
R.M.O.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ralphi Rosario,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
Charles Mingus,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Oneida,
Brick,
Qualms,
F. McDonald,
Bluetip,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Womack,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Reagan Youth,
Newcleus,
the Swans,
Inner City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scion,
ABC,
Swans,
Warsaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Bush Tetras,
The Moleskins,
Roxette,
Animal Collective,
Rotary Connection,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.