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 Australia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 The Slackers to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Reagan Youth,
Rakim,
Yellowson,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
Rekid,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Shoche,
Joensuu 1685,
Al Stewart,
Erykah Badu,
Chris Corsano,
Freddie Wadling,
John Lydon,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
Bob Dylan,
Cameo,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kurtis Blow,
Nils Olav,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Guru Guru,
Stetsasonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronnie Foster,
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lyres,
The Gun Club,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Five Americans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Whodini,
The Star Department,
Gang Starr,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Franke,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.