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 Montenegro and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Infiniti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Easy Going,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Icehouse,
X-102,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Monks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick May,
Boredoms,
Anakelly,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronan,
Jacques Brel,
The Happenings,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Lightning Bolt,
Liliput,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
The Buckinghams,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Rundgren,
These Immortal Souls,
Eurythmics,
Jeru the Damaja,
Susan Cadogan,
Davy DMX,
Unrelated Segments,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
Roxette,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gladiators,
Thee Headcoats,
The Music Machine,
Main Source,
Crime,
The New Christs,
Can,
The Fugs,
Scratch Acid,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
LL Cool J,
The Sonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Franke,
The Raincoats,
The Vogues,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Dolphy,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.