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 Kazakhstan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mantronix,
The Skatalites,
Nick Fraelich,
Iggy Pop,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scientists,
Quando Quango,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dead C,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Little Man,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
10cc,
F. McDonald,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
Ten City,
Bobby Sherman,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Sneak,
Morten Harket,
Donald Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
Fela Kuti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Massinfluence,
Television Personalities,
Stiv Bators,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
John Holt,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
Eve St. Jones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Janne Schatter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mo-Dettes,
Qualms,
Bobby Byrd,
Todd Terry,
David Axelrod,
Interpol,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nico,
X-101,
Rosa Yemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.