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 Liechtenstein and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Wells to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Newcleus,
The Saints,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-Ray Spex,
Kurtis Blow,
Letta Mbulu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Pretty Things,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kaleidoscope,
Audionom,
Qualms,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mojo Men,
Animal Collective,
Monks,
Ponytail,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Danielle Patucci,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Inner City,
The Skatalites,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nirvana,
Jeff Mills,
EPMD,
Max Romeo,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Buzzcocks,
OOIOO,
Juan Atkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skaos,
A Certain Ratio,
Cluster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Warsaw,
Chris Corsano,
Warren Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.