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 Kiribati and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 UT to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
Wasted Youth,
The Gladiators,
Idris Muhammad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terry Callier,
Absolute Body Control,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Bananas,
Alison Limerick,
Pulsallama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Yellowson,
The Searchers,
the Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül,
Loose Ends,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Chrome,
H. Thieme,
Chris Corsano,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Trojans,
Lightning Bolt,
Fad Gadget,
Marmalade,
Althea and Donna,
The Birthday Party,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Freddie Wadling,
Magazine,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Q and Not U,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
Alphaville,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
The Toasters,
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Reuben Wilson,
Radio Birdman,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
Ponytail,
Magma,
Wally Richardson,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
The Zeros,
Jandek,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.