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 East Timor and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed,
Eurythmics,
Nirvana,
Ronnie Foster,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Steve Hackett,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Pantaleimon,
Ituana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sam Rivers,
Vainqueur,
Hoover,
Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maurizio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maleditus Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-Ray Spex,
John Holt,
Little Man,
DNA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
KRS-One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monks,
Patti Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Evens,
Y Pants,
The Offenders,
Graham Central Station,
Swans,
Camberwell Now,
David Bowie,
Joey Negro,
The Techniques,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.