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 Latvia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 EPMD to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
The Selecter,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Thompson Twins,
Gichy Dan,
The Real Kids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Style,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
John Holt,
Whodini,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish,
F. McDonald,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Arthur Verocai,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Von Mondo,
Rites of Spring,
Jandek,
Technova,
Yellowson,
The Techniques,
Average White Band,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mojo Men,
The Fortunes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Star Department,
Slick Rick,
X-101,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Sheep,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doors,
The Associates,
Sight & Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
cv313,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.