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 Ecuador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Grass Roots to the rap 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 techno 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Cybotron,
Ronnie Foster,
Wire,
Dorothy Ashby,
Procol Harum,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Excepter,
Radiohead,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Techniques,
Flash Fearless,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Grey Daturas,
kango's stein massive,
Rekid,
Mary Jane Girls,
JFA,
Ornette Coleman,
The Buckinghams,
Qualms,
John Lydon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Das Ding,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rotary Connection,
One Last Wish,
the Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
cv313,
The Smoke,
The Fortunes,
New Age Steppers,
Severed Heads,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
X-102,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Franke,
The Real Kids,
Crime,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Names,
Black Pus,
The Wake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
The Pop Group,
Henry Cow,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.