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 Tajikistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Brick to the rap 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
The Dead C,
Robert Görl,
The Moleskins,
Sound Behaviour,
Yellowson,
Mo-Dettes,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
June Days,
Qualms,
Bush Tetras,
John Foxx,
The Smiths,
Mars,
Camouflage,
The Smoke,
Bang On A Can,
Rekid,
Scott Walker,
Letta Mbulu,
Andrew Hill,
Rufus Thomas,
Wally Richardson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Drexciya,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
Pussy Galore,
The Gun Club,
the Bar-Kays,
Clear Light,
Loose Ends,
Camberwell Now,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joey Negro,
Los Fastidios,
Eve St. Jones,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Kerrie Biddell,
Icehouse,
The Doors,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Newcleus,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Holt,
Pantaleimon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dave Clark Five,
Dawn Penn,
Lucky Dragons,
LL Cool J,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.