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 Belgium and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sparks to the crunk 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
John Lydon,
Blancmange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Goldenarms,
Nik Kershaw,
Joyce Sims,
Simply Red,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dennis Brown,
Black Moon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
June Days,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pulsallama,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spoonie Gee,
The Five Americans,
Tim Buckley,
Sixth Finger,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stockholm Monsters,
Newcleus,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Clear Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gun Club,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Wyatt,
Fatback Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thompson Twins,
Buzzcocks,
Wings,
Visage,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mars,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
Guru Guru,
Steve Hackett,
The Young Rascals,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.