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 Guinea and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 techno 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Nation of Ulysses,
DJ Style,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smoke,
Adolescents,
Don Cherry,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Funky Four + One,
Faust,
Eli Mardock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
E-Dancer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boz Scaggs,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
JFA,
Connie Case,
The Evens,
La Düsseldorf,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
Todd Terry,
Rites of Spring,
Wolf Eyes,
Gabor Szabo,
Babytalk,
Byron Stingily,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick Morgan,
U.S. Maple,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
Glambeats Corp.,
DNA,
Tubeway Army,
Eden Ahbez,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Model 500,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Red Krayola,
Anthony Braxton,
Youth Brigade,
L. Decosne,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Halsall,
Tommy Roe,
Ludus,
AZ,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.