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 Gabon and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Isaac Hayes to the rap 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
Joey Negro,
Black Flag,
Angry Samoans,
L. Decosne,
Kayak,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Main Source,
Robert Görl,
Outsiders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Finger,
Silicon Teens,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Audionom,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Suburban Knight,
Dead Boys,
Joy Division,
Flipper,
Fifty Foot Hose,
China Crisis,
Tubeway Army,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Qualms,
Sexual Harrassment,
These Immortal Souls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Index,
Faraquet,
Fugazi,
Hot Snakes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gong,
Pierre Henry,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soulsonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
Tim Buckley,
Funkadelic,
Ludus,
The Cure,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.