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 Ghana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Boogie Down Productions to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke,
Lalann,
Clear Light,
Royal Trux,
H. Thieme,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Dave Gahan,
The Fuzztones,
Khruangbin,
New York Dolls,
the Soft Cell,
Saccharine Trust,
The Zeros,
Susan Cadogan,
Erykah Badu,
Con Funk Shun,
Al Stewart,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
Adolescents,
Yusef Lateef,
Groovy Waters,
the Germs,
the Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agent Orange,
Slave,
Maurizio,
Parry Music,
Max Romeo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
LL Cool J,
Junior Murvin,
Kenny Larkin,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
Janne Schatter,
Television,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
The Moody Blues,
T.S.O.L.,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
Loose Ends,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
La Düsseldorf,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.