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 Somalia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the crunk 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Tommy Roe,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers,
Crash Course in Science,
CMW,
John Cale,
Morten Harket,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
Scan 7,
Darondo,
Cal Tjader,
Depeche Mode,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Laurel Aitken,
Ludus,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Reagan Youth,
Roxy Music,
Roger Hodgson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
The Smoke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wings,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonny Sharrock,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra,
Swell Maps,
Ultravox,
Fat Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.