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 Poland and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
World's Most,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fortunes,
Sparks,
The Slits,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
Ronnie Foster,
Derrick May,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Christie,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
The Pop Group,
Black Sheep,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Sugar Minott,
Public Enemy,
Brick,
Mad Mike,
Kaleidoscope,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Bourne,
Skaos,
Heaven 17,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
Kurtis Blow,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eve St. Jones,
Make Up,
Ornette Coleman,
Quadrant,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Searchers,
Harry Pussy,
New York Dolls,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
Swans,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fugs,
the Sonics,
Scrapy,
Barrington Levy,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sonics,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.