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 Tanzania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mr. Review to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang On A Can,
Letta Mbulu,
Franke,
Pulsallama,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
L. Decosne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABBA,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fuzztones,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang of Four,
Marine Girls,
Ponytail,
Erasure,
The New Christs,
John Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Scan 7,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Glenn Branca,
The Kinks,
Kayak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Blake Baxter,
One Last Wish,
The Skatalites,
DJ Sneak,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Lalann,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Country Teasers,
Lou Christie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Germs,
Q65,
cv313,
48th St. Collective,
Pagans,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.