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 Tonga and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Eric B and Rakim to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Todd Terry,
Spoonie Gee,
Lower 48,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols,
Tropical Tobacco,
Patti Smith,
Television,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
Warren Ellis,
The Vogues,
Aural Exciters,
Minnie Riperton,
The Angels of Light,
The Seeds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Prince Buster,
The Index,
Mars,
Inner City,
Popol Vuh,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Tremeloes,
Rotary Connection,
the Association,
David McCallum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Green,
DJ Style,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
Arab on Radar,
Unwound,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Alison Limerick,
Cybotron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.