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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Sonic Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Desert Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
David Axelrod,
Surgeon,
Brand Nubian,
Newcleus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
The Fire Engines,
Basic Channel,
D'Angelo,
Deepchord,
MDC,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
MC5,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jacques Brel,
The Moody Blues,
John Foxx,
X-Ray Spex,
Adolescents,
The Birthday Party,
UT,
Bobby Sherman,
Parry Music,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cameo,
Depeche Mode,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Dawn Penn,
Kayak,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Flag,
The Real Kids,
Sam Rivers,
Cluster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
June of 44,
Crime,
Barbara Tucker,
Toni Rubio,
The Modern Lovers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.