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 Bulgaria and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 David Axelrod 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q65,
Eddi Front,
Malaria!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Technova,
Pylon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
The Searchers,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster,
Fela Kuti,
Iggy Pop,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Underground Resistance,
Whodini,
The Durutti Column,
the Association,
Icehouse,
DJ Sneak,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cymande,
Altered Images,
Carl Craig,
The Birthday Party,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Essential Logic,
Bob Dylan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Count Five,
Television,
Masters at Work,
Ronan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
JFA,
The Young Rascals,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doors,
Minutemen,
Soulsonic Force,
Monks,
Ituana,
Sugar Minott,
Slave,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.