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 Italy and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the punk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Byrd,
Terry Callier,
Panda Bear,
Cecil Taylor,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
48th St. Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
Terrestrial Tones,
The New Christs,
Stiv Bators,
Barbara Tucker,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magma,
In Retrospect,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
Mission of Burma,
Adolescents,
Laurel Aitken,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Buckinghams,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Peter and Kerry,
The Move,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gong,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Finger,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
La Düsseldorf,
Parry Music,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Nirvana,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed,
Danielle Patucci,
Echospace,
James White and The Blacks,
Bluetip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.