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 Guatemala and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Juan Atkins 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wally Richardson,
Deadbeat,
The Invisible,
Bill Wells,
H. Thieme,
Dawn Penn,
The Fuzztones,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Massinfluence,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rites of Spring,
Arthur Verocai,
Pagans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
Ponytail,
Absolute Body Control,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Skaos,
Radiohead,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
Minny Pops,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cluster,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
the Normal,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
X-101,
Skarface,
the Fania All-Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Ossler,
Nas,
Slave,
The Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
The Velvet Underground,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
10cc,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
John Coltrane,
Hot Snakes,
Suicide,
The Star Department,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.