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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cal Tjader,
Accadde A,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
The Barracudas,
Oblivians,
Sugar Minott,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dead C,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama,
X-101,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Young Rascals,
Clear Light,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Subhumans,
Robert Wyatt,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
The Wake,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Move,
The Happenings,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Clarke,
Ice-T,
The Pretty Things,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grauzone,
Althea and Donna,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nas,
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
The Birthday Party,
Moss Icon,
Make Up,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alison Limerick,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fall,
Anthony Braxton,
Schoolly D,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.