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 Nauru and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum 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 Charles Mingus to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Wells,
The Knickerbockers,
Prince Buster,
Cheater Slicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Sheep,
The Remains,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
Ornette Coleman,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sugar Minott,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
The Toasters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultravox,
Marine Girls,
Icehouse,
Brick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Make Up,
Glambeats Corp.,
JFA,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Albert Ayler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Public Image Ltd.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Neon Judgement,
Jacob Miller,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
Youth Brigade,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sam Rivers,
The Divine Comedy,
Symarip,
Desert Stars,
Mars,
Quadrant,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Janne Schatter,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.