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 Madagascar and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joe Finger to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Roxette,
Gang of Four,
Byron Stingily,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Aural Exciters,
Ituana,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ponytail,
The Seeds,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Faust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Yaz,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gladiators,
Reuben Wilson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Accadde A,
Lucky Dragons,
Bad Manners,
The Grass Roots,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
Girls At Our Best!,
F. McDonald,
Negative Approach,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Erasure,
Chris Corsano,
L. Decosne,
Barbara Tucker,
MC5,
Frankie Knuckles,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Wells,
Gastr Del Sol,
This Heat,
Delta 5,
Derrick Morgan,
the Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott Heron,
D'Angelo,
Drexciya,
Sällskapet,
Henry Cow,
The Velvet Underground,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fugs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
June of 44,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.