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 Barbados and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jeff Mills to the rap 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Kas Product,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monolake,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
The Blackbyrds,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
David Bowie,
Minutemen,
The Durutti Column,
Accadde A,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas,
Visage,
Sam Rivers,
Qualms,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mojo Men,
John Holt,
Idris Muhammad,
The Blues Magoos,
Rapeman,
Tubeway Army,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
Soft Machine,
The Human League,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
The Fall,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Soft Cell,
The Gun Club,
Prince Buster,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donald Byrd,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
OOIOO,
Interpol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Average White Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rekid,
Negative Approach,
Thee Headcoats,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.