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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Starr to the rap 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
Masters at Work,
Half Japanese,
Joy Division,
Wings,
Dead Boys,
Prince Buster,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Simply Red,
Drexciya,
Chris & Cosey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Aloha Tigers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MC5,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Goldenarms,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sound Behaviour,
Blancmange,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doors,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gabor Szabo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Human League,
Wasted Youth,
New Order,
Kerri Chandler,
Make Up,
The Victims,
Television Personalities,
This Heat,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
10cc,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Sherman,
Slick Rick,
The Gun Club,
Section 25,
Alton Ellis,
kango's stein massive,
Liliput,
the Sonics,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.