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 Tajikistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Flag to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. 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?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
Kayak,
The Doors,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül II,
Alison Limerick,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Schoolly D,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Sonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Thee Headcoats,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
The Cure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
The Golliwogs,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Soul II Soul,
The Residents,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Finger,
Supertramp,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fuzztones,
Minor Threat,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
The Moody Blues,
The Gun Club,
The Trojans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacques Brel,
The Human League,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.