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 Netherlands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Janne Schatter to the electroclash 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sound,
Faust,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Skatalites,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Flag,
Motorama,
Accadde A,
Pagans,
Agitation Free,
Electric Prunes,
The Happenings,
Audionom,
Niagra,
kango's stein massive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hoover,
Monolake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Human League,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Skaos,
Make Up,
Harmonia,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Litter,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Hood,
Pere Ubu,
KRS-One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wolf Eyes,
A Certain Ratio,
Pantaleimon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
DNA,
Vladislav Delay,
Joensuu 1685,
Intrusion,
K-Klass,
CMW,
Japan,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
cv313,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears,
Sun City Girls,
MC5,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.