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 Uzbekistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 DJ Sneak to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Royal Trux,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radiohead,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Lebanon Hanover,
H. Thieme,
Amon Düül,
The Fugs,
Reuben Wilson,
New Age Steppers,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Tom Boy,
The Associates,
Wire,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skriet,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Patti Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Y Pants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Roger Hodgson,
Hoover,
The Skatalites,
Joe Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
Radiopuhelimet,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Slits,
Tres Demented,
Oneida,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
Suburban Knight,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gap Band,
Hardrive,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.