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 Luxembourg and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Marine Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alphaville,
The Pop Group,
Kevin Saunderson,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
Lakeside,
David McCallum,
Crooked Eye,
The Doors,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
These Immortal Souls,
Wasted Youth,
Q65,
Chris & Cosey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
Hasil Adkins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grauzone,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
The Tremeloes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Vogues,
Loose Ends,
Sugar Minott,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rekid,
Funky Four + One,
Subhumans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Rundgren,
48th St. Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Shoche,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Anakelly,
PIL,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crispian St. Peters,
Infiniti,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang of Four,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.