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 Montenegro and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radio Birdman to the jazz 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
FM Einheit,
Dave Gahan,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
the Association,
Moby Grape,
Letta Mbulu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tubeway Army,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Ice-T,
The Modern Lovers,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Schoolly D,
Second Layer,
Eric Dolphy,
The Barracudas,
Joy Division,
The Golliwogs,
Icehouse,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monolake,
The Mummies,
Darondo,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Moebius,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Average White Band,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Minny Pops,
Skarface,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
Accadde A,
Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
David McCallum,
Man Parrish,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.