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 Lebanon and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 DNA to the crunk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster,
Josef K,
DJ Style,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jandek,
The Fall,
The Cowsills,
Pantytec,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
Pulsallama,
Camberwell Now,
Minor Threat,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
Delta 5,
Bill Near,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Modern Lovers,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
The Remains,
Ituana,
Arab on Radar,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
Adolescents,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine,
Robert Görl,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
Barry Ungar,
The Five Americans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
The Stooges,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
David McCallum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
The Monochrome Set,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.