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 Hungary and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Laurel Aitken to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
The Offenders,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fad Gadget,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q and Not U,
The Wake,
the Bar-Kays,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Skriet,
Agent Orange,
Neu!,
Max Romeo,
AZ,
Babytalk,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans,
The Modern Lovers,
Altered Images,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
The Gap Band,
Ponytail,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
Scion,
Khruangbin,
John Lydon,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Sam Rivers,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arcadia,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
KRS-One,
The Invisible,
The Techniques,
Rapeman,
Danielle Patucci,
Model 500,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.