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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Boredoms,
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slackers,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
Loose Ends,
Tears for Fears,
E-Dancer,
Symarip,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry's Kids,
Organ,
Barbara Tucker,
X-Ray Spex,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cramps,
Ludus,
The Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
Eden Ahbez,
Donny Hathaway,
Rufus Thomas,
Franke,
Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funkadelic,
Country Teasers,
Brass Construction,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nik Kershaw,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
Patti Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hashim,
Rekid,
The Neon Judgement,
Iggy Pop,
Cal Tjader,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Boz Scaggs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.