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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gichy Dan to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Slave,
Boredoms,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Electric Prunes,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cowsills,
Magazine,
The Durutti Column,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
Tears for Fears,
Hasil Adkins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Young Rascals,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
the Bar-Kays,
Donald Byrd,
John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Skriet,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Connie Case,
Fear,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Organ,
Average White Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Unwound,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Stooges,
The Slackers,
Rotary Connection,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
Main Source,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Marine Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Television,
Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Drexciya,
Roxette,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.