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 Iceland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
Marmalade,
The Modern Lovers,
The Raincoats,
Hardrive,
The Techniques,
Minny Pops,
Niagra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mark Hollis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smiths,
The Music Machine,
Smog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Normal,
JFA,
Rapeman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jawbox,
Soft Machine,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
Jerry's Kids,
Surgeon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
The Standells,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Almond,
Main Source,
Junior Murvin,
Ronan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Khruangbin,
K-Klass,
Drexciya,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Technova,
The Divine Comedy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Human League,
Pantaleimon,
The Doors,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.