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 Mexico and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet 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 Rod Modell to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Warsaw,
Deepchord,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Index,
The Gun Club,
The Cosmic Jokers,
R.M.O.,
Tommy Roe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Todd Rundgren,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erasure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Metal Thangz,
The Residents,
Amazonics,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
The Barracudas,
D'Angelo,
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reuben Wilson,
John Coltrane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
Cameo,
David McCallum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Negative Approach,
Los Fastidios,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Adolescents,
Con Funk Shun,
The Happenings,
Scrapy,
Graham Central Station,
The Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
Soft Machine,
Sparks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Inner City,
Flipper,
The Music Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rod Modell,
Shuggie Otis,
EPMD,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.