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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog 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?
Skarface,
Darondo,
David Bowie,
A Certain Ratio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
Camberwell Now,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fad Gadget,
The Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mummies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Parry Music,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
MC5,
The Gladiators,
Supertramp,
The Doors,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Q65,
The New Christs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The United States of America,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rosa Yemen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
The Wake,
The Shadows of Knight,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.