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 Turkey and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Pantaleimon to the funk 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Easy Going,
The Moleskins,
A Certain Ratio,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ohio Players,
The Trojans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Amon Düül II,
The Cramps,
Frankie Knuckles,
T. Rex,
Average White Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Radiopuhelimet,
These Immortal Souls,
Wire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alison Limerick,
Youth Brigade,
Yaz,
Make Up,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun City Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Buzzcocks,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gabor Szabo,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funky Four + One,
Ronnie Foster,
Parry Music,
The Martian,
AZ,
the Normal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Moebius,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Minny Pops,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Arthur Verocai,
Rekid,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.