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 Antigua and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Josef K to the techno 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Siglo XX,
Kas Product,
DNA,
Carl Craig,
Grey Daturas,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dennis Brown,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
Dark Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lucky Dragons,
The Real Kids,
The Slits,
Suicide,
Amon Düül,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
Alton Ellis,
Circle Jerks,
The Gap Band,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
Interpol,
Guru Guru,
Urselle,
DJ Sneak,
The Motions,
John Holt,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Golliwogs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Grass Roots,
Second Layer,
Visage,
Metal Thangz,
Josef K,
Soul II Soul,
Television,
Lakeside,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.