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 Venezuela and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harry Pussy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Flag,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radio Birdman,
Jandek,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultra Naté,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Rod Modell,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Wells,
The Cure,
Heaven 17,
Hardrive,
Stereo Dub,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
Mark Hollis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dave Clark Five,
CMW,
Quadrant,
Alton Ellis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Malaria!,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Association,
the Bar-Kays,
The Barracudas,
Flash Fearless,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grauzone,
Nico,
Darondo,
Rosa Yemen,
Smog,
Clear Light,
Cameo,
Ken Boothe,
June Days,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.