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 Eritrea and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 48th St. Collective to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
Cymande,
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
New York Dolls,
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ponytail,
Brothers Johnson,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Sugar Minott,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Bill Near,
Faust,
Marmalade,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moby Grape,
Altered Images,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marvin Gaye,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Alphaville,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
MDC,
Barry Ungar,
Aswad,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
Toni Rubio,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.