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 Cambodia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar 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 Royal Trux to the rap 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Maleditus Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oblivians,
Sandy B,
Wings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Swans,
The Happenings,
Sister Nancy,
the Germs,
Surgeon,
Scientists,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Sarah Menescal,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Certain Ratio,
The Golliwogs,
Young Marble Giants,
KRS-One,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gun Club,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Popol Vuh,
Joyce Sims,
The Victims,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
Suicide,
Grauzone,
Anthony Braxton,
Duran Duran,
Todd Terry,
The Walker Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
Isaac Hayes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Second Layer,
Scott Walker,
Scratch Acid,
Skaos,
Gang Green,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dawn Penn,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonic Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.