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 Uzbekistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Durutti Column 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Black Pus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
Second Layer,
Eric Copeland,
Donald Byrd,
Glenn Branca,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter and Kerry,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
a-ha,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gong,
Alison Limerick,
Amazonics,
Basic Channel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grauzone,
Dark Day,
Rapeman,
Lalann,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Surgeon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pagans,
John Holt,
The Black Dice,
Minnie Riperton,
Cluster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Carl Craig,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Section 25,
Charles Mingus,
Sound Behaviour,
Television,
Marine Girls,
Interpol,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacob Miller,
Infiniti,
The Smoke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Anakelly,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Idris Muhammad,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.