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 Indonesia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Symarip to the crunk 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Tommy Roe,
LL Cool J,
Audionom,
Qualms,
Ralphi Rosario,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rekid,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fire Engines,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Byrd,
Echospace,
Iggy Pop,
Janne Schatter,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
E-Dancer,
JFA,
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
Todd Rundgren,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pierre Henry,
Lyres,
Second Layer,
Symarip,
The Gladiators,
Susan Cadogan,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
Piero Umiliani,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thee Headcoats,
Rhythm & Sound,
PIL,
Khruangbin,
DJ Style,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Michelle Simonal,
The Names,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
Pussy Galore,
One Last Wish,
The Evens,
Hoover,
Robert Hood,
The American Breed,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Von Mondo,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.