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 El Salvador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Man Parrish to the rap 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Stooges,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flash Fearless,
The Knickerbockers,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Mars,
Nirvana,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fire Engines,
Bob Dylan,
Neil Young,
Don Cherry,
Godley & Creme,
Hot Snakes,
Scratch Acid,
Guru Guru,
Ohio Players,
The Smiths,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Joe Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Althea and Donna,
Marvin Gaye,
Mark Hollis,
The Martian,
Nas,
Yellowson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Young Rascals,
ABC,
Ultravox,
Crime,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Ponytail,
Moss Icon,
David Bowie,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fatback Band,
Skriet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Schoolly D,
Eli Mardock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Accadde A,
EPMD,
Yusef Lateef,
Glenn Branca,
The Slits,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.