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 Honduras and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sun City Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
Roy Ayers,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dirtbombs,
Ossler,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
CMW,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
The Modern Lovers,
cv313,
The Seeds,
The Music Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
Brass Construction,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Buckinghams,
Second Layer,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
The Searchers,
Kas Product,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Golliwogs,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Hill,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Coltrane,
Charles Mingus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Sheep,
Animal Collective,
Q65,
Delta 5,
Agitation Free,
Slave,
Bootsy Collins,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Arthur Verocai,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.