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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Saccharine Trust to the punk 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
Bobby Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
The Toasters,
Y Pants,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
Severed Heads,
Janne Schatter,
Darondo,
Lakeside,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
Rosa Yemen,
Thompson Twins,
Sparks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slackers,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sarah Menescal,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
KRS-One,
Echospace,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Peter and Kerry,
Mad Mike,
Jacques Brel,
Amon Düül,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
kango's stein massive,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Lyres,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dead Boys,
D'Angelo,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
Symarip,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Cell,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.