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 Libya and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Erykah Badu to the grime 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
Stereo Dub,
The Pop Group,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Dennis Brown,
Joensuu 1685,
the Germs,
Chrome,
Urselle,
The Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
AZ,
Fear,
Prince Buster,
Audionom,
Reuben Wilson,
Dead Boys,
Scan 7,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The New Christs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Wake,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Birthday Party,
The Moleskins,
Erasure,
Sight & Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Tremeloes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Stiv Bators,
The Fire Engines,
Can,
Don Cherry,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.