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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Cheater Slicks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Junior Murvin,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Adolescents,
Grauzone,
Jawbox,
The Moleskins,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Patti Smith,
Ituana,
The Pop Group,
Underground Resistance,
Joey Negro,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Zero Boys,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sam Rivers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Bananas,
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
Jacques Brel,
Dark Day,
Alton Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
The Offenders,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nico,
Can,
Boredoms,
Shuggie Otis,
Donny Hathaway,
Jandek,
The Remains,
Groovy Waters,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Minor Threat,
Robert Görl,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.