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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 The Red Krayola to the techno 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Jacob Miller,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Görl,
Metal Thangz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siglo XX,
Animal Collective,
Los Fastidios,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shoche,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Accadde A,
Panda Bear,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
Donny Hathaway,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Section 25,
Faust,
Scratch Acid,
Warsaw,
Brick,
Buzzcocks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Soul II Soul,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cecil Taylor,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Eurythmics,
The Modern Lovers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Y Pants,
Avey Tare,
June of 44,
The Gladiators,
The Five Americans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dawn Penn,
Rapeman,
Pantytec,
Joensuu 1685,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.