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 South Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Traffic Nightmare to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
The Trojans,
the Germs,
Ossler,
Gabor Szabo,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
Faust,
Spoonie Gee,
Angry Samoans,
Brand Nubian,
Whodini,
Barry Ungar,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
L. Decosne,
The Leaves,
Easy Going,
The Index,
Jawbox,
Black Pus,
The Star Department,
Kenny Larkin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Public Enemy,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Osbourne,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Basic Channel,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rites of Spring,
Yazoo,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siglo XX,
ABBA,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T. Rex,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
The Evens,
Magma,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Swell Maps,
the Human League,
Roxy Music,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.