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 Tajikistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Curtis Mayfield to the electroclash 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Dead C,
Flash Fearless,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wings,
Josef K,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Interpol,
Wire,
DJ Sneak,
Patti Smith,
David Axelrod,
Electric Prunes,
Minny Pops,
Bauhaus,
Jerry's Kids,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
Mission of Burma,
Wolf Eyes,
The Mojo Men,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
Robert Wyatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Guru Guru,
Isaac Hayes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funky Four + One,
Tubeway Army,
Bill Near,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
The Mummies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crash Course in Science,
The Standells,
Massinfluence,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Zero Boys,
Rekid,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Hood,
Jacques Brel,
ABC,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Sun Ra,
Half Japanese,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
The Cramps,
Scott Walker,
Nico,
These Immortal Souls,
Judy Mowatt,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.