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 the UAE and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Teasers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Iggy Pop,
Drexciya,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
UT,
Skaos,
Harmonia,
Sandy B,
Wally Richardson,
Underground Resistance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Unrelated Segments,
Infiniti,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Swans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Names,
Sonic Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slackers,
Quadrant,
Kayak,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Josef K,
New Age Steppers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Associates,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arcadia,
Ossler,
Robert Görl,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Flag,
Soft Cell,
Stetsasonic,
Donald Byrd,
Jawbox,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fuzztones,
Bauhaus,
Juan Atkins,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.