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 Belize and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Harry Pussy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Whodini,
Nas,
Derrick May,
Rotary Connection,
Thee Headcoats,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
Bootsy Collins,
Yaz,
John Foxx,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Star Department,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry's Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
World's Most,
Delon & Dalcan,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Urselle,
The Toasters,
Sonic Youth,
Desert Stars,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Talk Talk,
Freddie Wadling,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Neil Young,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.