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 Azerbaijan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the electroclash 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Techniques,
Hashim,
Bauhaus,
Excepter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
DNA,
The Misunderstood,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
Henry Cow,
The Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nik Kershaw,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Star Department,
Erasure,
Radiohead,
Bob Dylan,
The Electric Prunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Model 500,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rapeman,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke,
Wasted Youth,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
The Dirtbombs,
Ornette Coleman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mad Mike,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Josef K,
June of 44,
Outsiders,
Reuben Wilson,
Freddie Wadling,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Raincoats,
Alphaville,
The Saints,
Michelle Simonal,
the Swans,
Zapp,
Max Romeo,
New Age Steppers,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.