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 Gabon and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Darondo to the grunge 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
Neil Young,
The Birthday Party,
Pantaleimon,
Mantronix,
Index,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
the Association,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
Terry Callier,
Yellowson,
Arthur Verocai,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Modern Lovers,
cv313,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Anakelly,
Shuggie Otis,
Byron Stingily,
Minny Pops,
F. McDonald,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David McCallum,
Bronski Beat,
Cecil Taylor,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Youth Brigade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faust,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.