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 Tajikistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Motions,
Monks,
Minny Pops,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Tears for Fears,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté,
Talk Talk,
Siglo XX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maleditus Sound,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Franke,
Gang of Four,
Spoonie Gee,
Royal Trux,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Bananas,
Vladislav Delay,
Byron Stingily,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reagan Youth,
Malaria!,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
JFA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
The Golliwogs,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
Brand Nubian,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Niagra,
Flipper,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boredoms,
Sight & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Blancmange,
Make Up,
Joe Smooth,
DNA,
Marvin Gaye,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.