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 Namibia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sexual Harrassment to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
The Fugs,
Erasure,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant,
Deakin,
Whodini,
Lalann,
Kurtis Blow,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Howard Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
Boz Scaggs,
Kas Product,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Quantec,
The Black Dice,
Half Japanese,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fortunes,
B.T. Express,
The Birthday Party,
Ossler,
Wings,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Au Pairs,
Alton Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
Franke,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pop Group,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
Goldenarms,
Hardrive,
Pantaleimon,
Groovy Waters,
The Trojans,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
kango's stein massive,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.