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 Liechtenstein and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Fortunes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mark Hollis,
Livin' Joy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angry Samoans,
the Sonics,
Moebius,
Fatback Band,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
Reuben Wilson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Remains,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eric B and Rakim,
Can,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joyce Sims,
Chris & Cosey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Monks,
Massinfluence,
Von Mondo,
Television,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pop Group,
Dead Boys,
Shuggie Otis,
Popol Vuh,
Deakin,
This Heat,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nico,
Stetsasonic,
Flash Fearless,
Piero Umiliani,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Infiniti,
The Motions,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Althea and Donna,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.