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 Belgium and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Scion,
Inner City,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Bang On A Can,
the Germs,
Rufus Thomas,
Archie Shepp,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Wells,
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Make Up,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
The Sound,
Maurizio,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Intrusion,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacob Miller,
Jacques Brel,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
Trumans Water,
Gong,
Kaleidoscope,
Stiv Bators,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
Rekid,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
kango's stein massive,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
Scratch Acid,
Technova,
Unrelated Segments,
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pulsallama,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.