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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Ice-T,
Ludus,
The Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crooked Eye,
The Cure,
Magma,
The Durutti Column,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lyres,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cameo,
Royal Trux,
Sparks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Shoche,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Style,
Nils Olav,
Jacques Brel,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pierre Henry,
Chris Corsano,
Newcleus,
Zapp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arthur Verocai,
Barbara Tucker,
The Barracudas,
Ultra Naté,
Nation of Ulysses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scan 7,
Tim Buckley,
Mark Hollis,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.