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 Palau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Charles Mingus to the grime 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Toni Rubio,
Ice-T,
Guru Guru,
Dennis Brown,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Max Romeo,
John Foxx,
Spoonie Gee,
Procol Harum,
cv313,
Terry Callier,
The Skatalites,
Reagan Youth,
Blancmange,
Bush Tetras,
John Cale,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Normal,
The Sonics,
The Fugs,
Thee Headcoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crime,
DJ Style,
Faust,
The Offenders,
The Buckinghams,
The Seeds,
The Five Americans,
The Birthday Party,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
Amazonics,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Bar-Kays,
Clear Light,
Marc Almond,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eddi Front,
Blake Baxter,
Andrew Hill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Durutti Column,
The Music Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Busters,
In Retrospect,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Massinfluence,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.