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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Birthday Party,
Tim Buckley,
Shuggie Otis,
The Happenings,
The Grass Roots,
Lower 48,
Lungfish,
Motorama,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Average White Band,
The Five Americans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quando Quango,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Royal Trux,
The Slits,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drive Like Jehu,
One Last Wish,
Yazoo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barclay James Harvest,
Todd Rundgren,
Depeche Mode,
Marvin Gaye,
Kurtis Blow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
Judy Mowatt,
Stereo Dub,
FM Einheit,
The Kinks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers,
Cecil Taylor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Faust,
OOIOO,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fear,
Lalann,
Metal Thangz,
Outsiders,
JFA,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Derrick May,
The Smiths,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.