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 Swaziland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Certain Ratio to the funk 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Animal Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slave,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Con Funk Shun,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
Eden Ahbez,
Michelle Simonal,
Hardrive,
Lower 48,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Joey Negro,
Sound Behaviour,
Q65,
Mission of Burma,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q and Not U,
The Count Five,
The Music Machine,
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
AZ,
New Age Steppers,
Tomorrow,
Spoonie Gee,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter and Kerry,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
The Real Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Move,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
La Düsseldorf,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Mars,
Excepter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
The Motions,
Faraquet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alphaville,
The Barracudas,
Chris Corsano,
Sight & Sound,
The Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Basic Channel,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.